He's Not Dead Yet
by Redbayly
Summary: When Harry offered himself up to Voldemort, he discovered the people in the Ministry of Death are not happy with him at all. To make up for his years of blunders, Harry is sent back in time to correct everything that went wrong and to get some revenge. Harry/6 girls, Bashing of Dumbledore, Snape, and certain Weasleys. Written for humor only. Do not take seriously. Reviews welcome.
1. Something Completely Different

He's Not Dead Yet

**Hello Dear Readers,**

**Some of you may know that I have already posted this story; still more of you may remember that I was forced to delete it because of some asshole who threatened to report me for the use of song lyrics. Well, I decided to use the time until now to do some revising of the story and I think I've made it better. I'm going to cut back on the blatant Monty Python scenes which had been a big problem in the original. Anyway, please enjoy the newly revised and reposted version of "He's Not Dead Yet."**

**I own not that great work known as Harry Potter, nor do I own anything in relation to Monty Python's Flying Circus.**

And Now For Something Completely Different

_Harry could feel his wand against his chest, but he made no attempt to draw it. He knew that the snake was too well protected, knew that if he managed to point the wand at Nagini, fifty curses would hit him first. And still, Voldemort and Harry looked at each other, and now Voldemort tilted his head a little to the side, considering the boy standing before him, and a singularly mirthless smile curled the lipless mouth._

_"Harry Potter," he said very softly. His voice might have been part of the spitting fire. "The Boy Who Lived."_

_None of the Death Eaters moved. They were waiting: Everything was waiting. Hagrid was struggling, and Bellatrix was panting, and Harry thought inexplicably of Ginny, and her blazing look, and the feel of her lips on his. Voldemort had raised his wand. His head was still tilted to one side, like a curious child, wondering what would happen if he proceeded. Harry looked back into the red eyes, and wanted it to happen now, quickly, while he could still stand, before he lost control, before he betrayed fear._

_He saw the mouth move and a flash of green light, and everything was gone._

(J.K. Rowling)

* * *

"Alright, take a seat, Mr. Potter."

Harry opened his eyes. He was now in what looked like a waiting room. The walls were simple but had a few paintings hung upon them; there were some sofas where a few people were sitting patiently, waiting. The voice that had greeted him belonged to a rather tired-looking young man that Harry could've sworn he had seen before. The man was of average height, with short, well-groomed, brown hair and dark, hazel-brown eyes. Harry quickly obeyed what the man had said and sat down.

"If you'll just wait here, Mr. Potter, we'll be with you in a moment," the man continued before ushering another person through the door. "This one's a quick case."

Harry then began to take note of the other people in the room; he recognized them all as people who had been at the battle, including…

"Fred?"

"Hmm?" The red-headed boy looked up from a magazine he was reading and, on seeing Harry, smiled. "Heya, Harry. They got you, too?"

"Sort of."

"Ah, well, that's war, innit? How'd you go?"

"Gave myself up to Voldemort."

"Why the bloody hell would you do that?" Fred looked shocked and appalled.

"Well, I found out that I had a Horcrux in my head and that the only way to defeat Voldemort is for all his Horcruxes to be destroyed. Besides, if I hadn't, he was going to kill everyone."

"Blimey."

"That's exactly what we wish to speak to you about, Mr. Potter," said the man from before. "That 'Horcrux' business should have been dealt with sooner, but that bastard Dumbledore-"

"Dumbledore was a great man!" Harry protested angrily.

"Oh, oh, of _course_ he was!" a new voice interjected sarcastically. Harry looked over and saw a blonde-haired man in a grey suit. "Oh, yes, just absolutely _brilliant_! Oh, sorry, no more sherbet lemons for me, I'm off to send a young boy on a suicide mission! Oh, oh, oh! Look at me, I'm Albus bloody Dumbledore! I can get away with child abuse and neglect because I'm working for the Greater Good. Oh, oh, oh!"

"Lambert, you're not helping," the other man said.

"Well, pardon me, Wilkins, but some of us have issues regarding old men playing with the minds of underage boys."

"Like you never did that," Wilkins retorted.

"We all did it, ya bastard! Why else would we be working here?"

"Do you need a drink, Lambert?"

"Gin would be much appreciated."

Lambert then went back to reading a newspaper entitled _Underworld Weekly_, the headline of which was _Hogwarts Disaster, Will our boys be able to fix this mess?_ Harry was beginning to feel incredibly guilty. The whole Battle of Hogwarts was his fault after all.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, I do believe it's your turn," Wilkins said after handing Lambert a glass of gin. Wilkins directed him through a door and into a finely furnished office. Harry kept wracking his brain trying to remember where he knew Wilkins and Lambert from; their voices were incredibly familiar.

As Harry walked into the office, he saw a man sitting at a polished, oak desk. The man was wearing a dark-blue, pinstripe business suit and had short, sleek, dark-brown hair and piercing, dark eyes.

"Ah, Mr. Potter!" the man exclaimed. He shook Harry's hand from across the desk and motioned to a chair. "Take a seat."

"Thank you, Mr…?"

"I forget my name at the moment, but that's of little relevance. Now, Mr. Potter, I've been going over your file and I have gotten a pretty clear picture of what exactly has been happening; and I think I can say, without fear of contradiction, that you've really had your destiny screwed up pretty badly, haven't you?"

"Er…"

"I mean just look at this file. First year, a Philosopher's Stone, a possessed DADA professor, a troll. Second year, a basilisk, a Horcrux diary, a whole school thinking you're a dark wizard. It just gets worse. Third year, dementors; fourth year, the Triwizard Tournament and the return of Voldemort; fifth year, the Toad and the Department of Mysteries. No, no, I'm sorry, this is just unacceptable. We haven't had a problem in the Ministry of Death so troublesome since we had to fire one of the pantomime-horses."

Harry gave the man a confused look.

"And to say the least about what I read about your future from this point. As it is, you do have the option of going back out there and taking down Mr. Riddle and all that. However, it seems your life is not going to be as it should have been. According to our experts, you were supposed to accept a rather interesting inheritance from the goblins at Gringotts, have their curse-breakers remove the Horcrux from your scar, and begin a search for the other Horcruxes with the help of the Goblin Nation.

"Ah, I can see by your expression that you are surprised that the goblins would be helpful to you. Well, the thing is, goblins know quite a great deal about Horcruxes and would be only too happy at the chance to destroy them. In fact, if you had simply told Mr. Griphook that you were out to destroy a Horcrux then he would never have betrayed you at all. Not that all the blame of what has happened should be entirely on _your_ head; it seems you had any number of bad influences.

"Anyway, back to the previous subject. If you return and face the world you just left behind, I'm afraid things won't entirely be as they should. According to the Destiny Department, you would go on to defeat Riddle, but the after-effects of the war would be devastating to the magical community. Just like in the first war, Death Eaters would bribe their way out of Azkaban and a whole new generation of bigots would be produced. The population would be decimated; to say the least of the emotional effect the loss of so many wonderful young people would have on countless families. For you and your friends, the after-effects will be a bit different. You would go on to marry Miss Ginevra Weasley, despite the fact that she is the last person in the world you should even consider being in a relationship with."

"What's wrong with Ginny?!" Harry protested vehemently.

"Oh dear, it seems the love potion she gave you hasn't worn off yet."

"What love potion?!"

"Oh my, it's worse than I thought." He then pressed a button on an intercom. "Hello, I think we're going to need an expert on undoing love potions."

"Righto," was the rather eager response on the other end of the line.

"Now, Mr. Potter, I'm going to recommend you to our leading specialist on potion-induced feelings, a colleague of mine, a surgeon, who has an office very much like this one."

* * *

In a similar office, a man with blonde hair, a moustache, and spectacles was sitting at a desk when his telephone rang.

"Hello? No, no, wrong number, I'm afraid; I'm a colleague of his, a surgeon, who specializes in potion-induced feelings."

He hung up the phone and there was a knock at the door.

"Come in. Ah, Mr. Potter-"

"Hang on," Harry said, "I've seen you before."

"What?"

"Yes, you were in the waiting room when I first got down here. Your name's Lambert."

The man looked at him quizzically for a moment before shaking his head.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Potter. Never mind. Do take a seat. My colleague, who has a similar office, has explained your case to me." The man leaned in and looked closely at Harry. "Mr. Potter, as you are aware, I am leading expert on the subject of potion-induced feelings. I'm afraid we're going to have to operate. There's nothing to worry about as you are already dead. Now, if you'll just step through here," he gestured towards another door, "and I'll slit you up a treat."

"What?!" Harry exclaimed.

"Mr. Potter, there is nothing wrong with you that an expensive operation can't prolong."

* * *

_One expensive operation later_

"Well, Mr. Potter, how are you feeling?" asked the man from earlier.

"Better, oddly enough," Harry replied. "Your colleague with a similar office really did know what he was doing."

"And your feelings towards Miss Weasley?"

"I…I don't really feel anything for her at all; except maybe confusion."

"Ah, that is to be expected when emerging from the throes of a love potion. Wouldn't be the first time we've encountered a situation like yours, Mr. Potter. You should've seen what happened with Alexander the Great when we had him down here the first time."

"But, what I can't understand is why. Why would Ginny do that to me?"

"Well, Mr. Potter, from her potions grades I doubt she was able to do it herself. Either she bought it or that harpy of a mother of hers brewed it."

"What?"

"Oh honestly, Mr. Potter, do you really think that Molly Weasley would let a boy like you slip from her daughter's grasp? Mr. Potter, from the very beginning of your experiences with the Weasleys, did you not become the _least_ bit suspicious?"

"Uhh…"

"Eloquent as always, I see. Not to sound pushy, Mr. Potter, but as the head of about six Most Ancient and Most Noble Houses, I do hope you'll eliminate those sort of responses from your vocabulary."

"Head of what?"

"Yet another thing that Dumbledore fellow has kept from you. Mr. Potter, what are these?" He pushed a set of documents in front of Harry.

"Marriage and birth certificates?"

"Exactly; and whose names are on them?"

"Geraldine Gryffindor married to Patrocles Potter in 1776 (Gryffindor line now transferred to Potter). Gordian Potter born in 1777. Hypatia Ravenclaw (Squib) married to Jonas Evans (Squib) in 1547. Janus Peverell (son of Ignotus Peverell III) married to Ilsa Hufflepuff in 1823 (Hufflepuff line transferred to Peverell). Ignatia Peverell in born 1825. Ignatia Peverell married to Christopher Potter in 1849. Alonsyius Slytherin married to Hortense Plantagenat in 1432. Syrena Slytherin born 1445. Syrena Slytherin married to Irenaeus Florus in 1462 (Slytherin transferred to Florus). Horatio Florus born 1467. Rosemary Florus (Squib) married to Robert Evans in 1948. Lily Anne Evans born 30th January 1960 (Ravenclaw and Slytherin lines reinstated)."

"As you can see, Mr. Potter, you have been rather kept in the dark, as it were, in regards to your heritage."

"Why…Why didn't anyone tell me about this?" Harry asked, rather gobsmacked.

"Well, the first reason was because Albus Dumbledore sought to control your available seats on the Wizengamot by appointing himself as your Magical Guardian. The second reason is that not many people knew all the details; indeed, the Founders have been represented on the Wizengamot by the Headmaster or Headmistress of Hogwarts for quite some time. As you probably know, Squibs are often hushed up by magical families in an attempt to save face. Your Squib relatives ended up being the last of their familial lines; therefore, you are the last heir to all these families."

"But, wait, if my mum was younger than Aunt Petunia, then wouldn't Dudley-"

"I can see right where you're going with this, Mr. Potter, and I can assure you that the titles which accompany your magical heritage can only be claimed by the _magical_ heir. Seeing as your cousin is a Muggle and you are a wizard, _you_ are the heir."

"There's another thing I don't understand. If my grandmother was a Squib, and Squibs can see dementors, why couldn't Dudley see the dementors that attacked us during the summer before my fifth year?"

"Ah, yes, it seems that your cousin is entirely Muggle with little to no chance of ever having magical descendants. I believe it is due to his father's genetics. Your aunt probably would be able to see them, though."

"Also, I thought Voldemort was the Heir of Slytherin. You seem to be indicating that it's me."

"Yes, Mr. Potter, you are the rightful Heir of Slytherin. The Gaunt family was actually from a lesser branch that stemmed from Salazar Slytherin's youngest daughter."

"Okay, but back to the subject of the Weasleys…"

"Well, Mr. Potter, answer me this one question: why are you friends with Ronald Weasley?"

"Well, he was the first real friend I ever had. He's stuck by me through everything."

"Has he?" There was an obvious note of skepticism in the man's voice. "Let's review, shall we?" He then pulled up a video projector and the lights in the office dimmed. Suddenly, Harry's experiences with Ron were being replayed before his very eyes.

"Let us start with your first encounter with the Weasleys. Molly Weasley has seven children, two of whom had already graduated by the time you arrived for your first year; why, I ask you, did she inquire what platform they were looking for? To say the least of the fact that she was herself a Hogwarts alumna. Furthermore, why was she shouting about Muggles in a place as public as Kings Cross?"

Harry was rendered speechless. Whatever way he looked at it, it didn't make sense.

"Right then, Mr. Potter. Ronald Weasley 'happens' to enter your compartment on the pretext that everywhere else was full. Seeing as how the train has always been the size it is now, the only way for all compartments to be occupied is if there were no more than three people to each one. The reason is that owing to the first war with Voldemort there were much less children going to Hogwarts than there had been before the 1970s; indeed, you were a part of the smallest class in the history of Hogwarts School; if you had paid more attention to Miss Granger, you would have known that. Seeing as Mr. Weasley was incorrect about all the compartments being full, and because his brothers had mentioned they had helped 'Harry Potter' into that compartment, it can only be deduced that young Mr. Weasley purposefully sought you out.

"Moving right along, pay close attention to how Mr. Weasley responded to each person who visited the compartment after him. Did you notice a trend? Each person who stopped by was immediately bad-mouthed by Mr. Weasley once they left; and sometimes even while they were still there. With Mr. Longbottom, Ronald made fun of how the boy owned a toad. With Miss Granger, Ronald mocked her for her reading habits. While I admit that Miss Granger did have a rather bad habit of reciting everything she learned from books practically verbatim and in such a way that it showed her belief in absolutely everything those books said, I must that Miss Granger seems to be a much truer friend than Mr. Weasley.

"Now, from here we move along through your Hogwarts experience. Who was it who 'volunteered' you in that duel with Mr. Malfoy? None other than your 'friend' Ronald Weasley. Mr. Potter, if Ronald had not intervened, what would your response to Malfoy have been?"

"I would have told Malfoy to piss off," Harry replied simply. He remembered how he was just so sick of dealing with Malfoy at that point and was just trying to ignore him. The only reason he had gotten involved in that duel was because he didn't want to disappoint Ron.

"I think we understand each other, Mr. Potter. Now, Mr. Weasley's treatment of Miss Granger on Halloween. Here we see their altercation in Charms class. Miss Granger was just trying to help him and yet he acts viciously towards her and then insults her behind her back. I'll admit that Miss Granger has some issues when it comes to social interaction, but were you aware, Mr. Potter, that your friend Miss Granger was bullied in primary school?"

"No, I…she never told us."

"It's because you never asked her about her life before Hogwarts. Did it never occur to you that Miss Granger was a victim at her old school much like you yourself? Her classmates were envious of her because she was intelligent and had the admiration of the teachers due to her good behavior. In an effort to 'cut her down to size' the students at her primary school took it upon themselves to avoid or harass her at every opportunity. This treatment was what further drove her into her obsession with books and her ardent trust of authority figures. But, let us not dwell on Miss Granger's childhood; we must return to the subject of your experiences with Ronald Weasley.

"During the incident with the troll, it was you, Mr. Potter, who realized that Miss Granger did not know about the creature and dragged along a rather unwilling Mr. Weasley in search of her. After you stopped the troll, did Mr. Weasley apologize for his behavior towards Miss Granger? I don't recall anything about him rescinding his harsh words from earlier that day.

"Going back a ways; after you had discovered the three-headed dog, Fluffy, in the third floor (and we'll discuss _that_ later), who was it who encouraged you to pursue the mystery of what the beast was hiding? Again, it was Ronald Weasley. A true friend would have tried to dissuade you from going back there as it was dangerous.

"Continuing from that point, I would like to move ahead to when you three went through the trapdoor. The chess game. This is something that I'm sure you consider one of Mr. Weasley's 'shining moments' in your adventures."

"Well, Ron did sacrifice himself-"

"_Did_ he? Let me ask you this, Mr. Potter, what did the chess pieces do to when they took each other out?"

"Well, they knocked the vanquished piece on the head and dragged them off to the side."

"And? How _exactly_ is that a sacrifice, Mr. Potter? Mr. Weasley is, I will grudgingly admit, a rather impressive chess player. In all the years he's been playing Wizard's Chess, don't you think he would have realized that the pieces are never killed or even badly injured? And another thing, if Mr. Weasley were as good as all that, don't you think he would have known to make one of his friends the King? In chess, Mr. Potter, the King is the piece the chess-player defends to the very end. What's more, did either you or Miss Granger check on him after he was knocked out?"

"Well, no, he told us to go on without him."

"Just my point, Mr. Potter. If you paid better attention to what happens to chess pieces when they are knocked out you would see that they are only down for about a minute. Mr. Weasley was not awakened from his stupor until Miss Granger came back from the potions challenge and said they needed to leave and get Dumbledore."

"Where are you going with this?"

"Think, Mr. Potter; you are descendant of Rowena Ravenclaw, for goodness sake; why can't you use your brain in this?"

"Are you trying to say that…Ron was faking to stay out of coming to help me?"

"I must admit that I am not privy to everything about Mr. Weasley's life and thoughts; but, considering what happened, it is rather fishy, isn't it?"

"This is starting to sound like a conspiracy theory."

"I'd say it's more than a theory, Mr. Potter. Didn't Mr. Weasley himself actually state that Dumbledore had set you up to do the challenges? Didn't that seem a little suspicious?"

"Well…Dumbledore just wanted to test me; he needed me to see what I was capable of."

"You were eleven, Mr. Potter. What man in his right mind sends an _eleven-year-old_ in to face challenges that were supposed to keep a powerful alchemical artifact away from an evil megalomaniac?"

Again, Harry could not think up a response.

"We will address the Dumbledore problem in due course; but, for now, let us move on to your second year. Whose _brilliant_ idea was it to steal the family car and fly to Hogwarts rather than simply send off the owl or even summon the Knight Bus? Ronald Weasley would likely have at least _known_ about that method of transport. While I admit that this was not a pre-planned incident, it does prove that Mr. Weasley is probably not the type of person you should rely upon for good advice in a crisis situation.

"Another thing about second year that I do not understand is why you didn't try to look up information about Tom Riddle when you found the diary. If it was such an important discovery, why didn't you at least ask Miss Granger to check the Hogwarts archives? If you had, you would have stumbled upon some very interesting files. You would have found some rather suspicious accounts of what happened fifty years earlier. Every time a student was petrified, the first person to report it was none other than Tom Riddle. This, I am certain, would have at least had Miss Granger suspicious and you all would have been more on-your-toes about mysterious diaries that write back. The whole Aragog incident could have been avoided if you had simply given Hagrid enough drinks; all you had to do was mention to the Weasley twins that you wanted to get something out of Hagrid and a bottle of Firewhiskey would have easily made its way into your hands.

"Let's leave second year for now and bring up third. Every little thing Miss Granger did seemed to set Ronald Weasley off; her cat, the Firebolt, even studying was a sore topic between them. The Firebolt is the main thing I want to point out. Mr. Potter, while the truth was that you were never in any danger from Sirius Black, why didn't you listen to Miss Granger? There was a possibility that an escaped maniac was after you and all you could think about was having the broomstick. And then, when Miss Granger goes and does the sensible thing, you and Mr. Weasley shun her for several days. Is a friendship really worth nothing more than a broomstick?"

Harry thought about it and realized that he really was being unfair to Hermione; she had been looking out for his safety, after all.

"Fourth year is where I am _really_ confused. You say that Mr. Weasley is a true friend; that he's stood by you. Well, where was that support when your name came out of the Goblet of Fire? Instead of trusting you as a friend should, he went along with the idea that you were a lying cheat. And then, he only decides to believe you when you nearly get killed by the Horntail in the first task. And did he even apologize?"

"Well, I told him he didn't need to."

"Mr. Potter, don't you think you were entitled to an apology? Did more than three years of friendship mean so little to Mr. Weasley that he would behave as he did? And then there was his horrible behavior towards Miss Granger during the Yule Ball."

"Well, he was jealous because Hermione went to the ball with Krum. But Ron and Hermione have sorted out their problems now; I mean, they kissed-"

"Mr. Potter, I have been married more times than is probably good for me. If there's one thing I have learned from all those marriages it is that if you truly care about someone you should put that person's happiness before your own desires. If Mr. Weasley really did love Miss Granger as you profess, a) he would not have viciously criticized her decision to go to the ball with Mr. Krum, b) he would not have used Miss Brown to try and make Miss Granger jealous in your sixth year, and c) he would not have continually berated, demeaned, and insulted a girl who was supposedly one of his two best friends. The popular term for people like Mr. Weasley is a 'right bastard,' I believe. In fact, if I were to venture a guess, he, like his sister, used an illegal love potion to gain the affection of the person he desired."

Harry was feeling awful. One of his best friends seemed to be nothing more than a fame-leaching bully with no sense of consideration for anyone but himself while his other friend was continually being put-down just for being sensible or looking out for him.

"Well," Harry said in a last-ditch attempt to redeem his friend, "What about when Ron saved me from the Horcrux when I tried to retrieve the sword?"

"Oh, yes, he jumped into a pool of cold water and cut a necklace off of you. Not exactly a hard feat. If you had done the logical thing and left the necklace in the tent or even put it into that special mokeskin pouch that Hagrid gave you, there wouldn't have even been a problem. Then there's the whole issue of instantly allowing Mr. Weasley back into your confidence. Miss Granger at least had the good sense to stay angry with him over an extended period of time. You honestly believed him when he said he wanted to come right back after he abandoned you two alone in the woods? He spends a nice, safe Christmas with his brother Bill, acting like a complete freeloader the whole time, while you and Miss Granger are lost and starving.

"Let's move away from the past, now, and see what the future holds, Mr. Potter. What I am about to show you is what will happen if you choose to go back to right after you were 'killed.'"

The film reel started up at the point right after Harry had defeated Voldemort. While Harry did seem to have a moderately happy life, there were problems. Many Death Eaters did get off thanks to bribes and pushed more pure-blood policies through. There were marriage laws, new levels of bigotry, and the chances of yet another war were escalating. Harry managed to make the position of Head Auror; but, due to his 'adventure' into Gringotts, he never learns of his true heritage because the goblins were angry with him; this loses him the chance to make a difference in the Wizengamot. Ron only makes it into the Auror Corps because he's Harry's friend; eventually, he fails so tremendously at being an Auror that Harry has no choice but to fire him. Ron gets angry and the two friends have a row. When Hermione continues to communicate with Harry, Ron becomes jealous and accuses her of cheating on him; the problem only gets worse when Ron develops an alcohol addiction; soon enough, Ron becomes violent and Hermione suffers from domestic abuse. Harry's relationship with Ginny disintegrates when he has to work more often; Ginny begins to think that he is seeing another woman behind her back and gives him a love potion dosage that nearly kills him. When Harry finds out what happened, he is furious and the marriage ends in divorce; however, Ginny refuses to accept that her husband has left her and begins stalking him. Harry's life comes to a sudden end at the age of 59 when a Neo-Death Eater assassinates him in the Ministry of Magic. This act leads to a whole new war with an even higher death-toll than the last one.

"As you can see, Mr. Potter, returning to the moment you left is not the best idea."

"What can I do?" Harry asked desperately. The thought of going through everything he had just witnessed was too awful to comprehend.

"Mr. Potter," he picked up the projector and tossed it aside with a crash as the lights went back on, "I'm not going to mince words with you. Our department here in the Ministry of Death has the very important task of seeing to it that our clients do not die before the time that our boss, the chap upstairs, has decided. Now, as the case may be, various poor decisions as well as the manipulations of that old codger Dumbledore have led to some very real problems. If you agree to follow all terms and conditions our office provides, we will send you back in time to just after you blew up your aunt, Miss Marjorie Dursley. What do you say?"

"Well, there's not much to say, sir. If I don't go back then it means untold misery and death; and if I do go back I have the ability to fix countless mistakes and save the people I care about."

"Spoken like a gentleman, Mr. Potter. Now, if you will just follow me, we'll see what we can do to help prepare you for your return."

They were briefly interrupted by the sound of shouts outside.

"Get back in the closet, you pantomimetic royal person!"

"Lambert."

"Yes, sir?"

"What's going on?"

"Just the pantomime-Princess Margaret, sir. She's gotten right testy."

"Well, do handle it, Lambert; I'm busy at the moment."

He then steered a very confused Harry off down another corridor.

* * *

Harry was once again directed to an office. This time he was meeting with a legal official. He was a short man with slightly frizzy, dark-blonde hair that he had unsuccessfully tried to sleek back; the man was dressed in a blue suit with a light blue shirt and tie. This office was decorated with framed collections of different types of money.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, do sit down," the man said in a slow, almost lazy voice. "I have been reviewing your case and determined what you should do in regards to your inheritance as well as finding a way to protect your image in the media. As the head of not one but _six_ Most Ancient and Most Noble Houses, at least, you will be required to have one wife for each position."

"What?" said Harry. There was no way he could have heard that right.

"Come now, Mr. Potter; polygamy might be illegal in the Muggle community, but it is a very different story in the magical one. As the case is, you already had an illegal marriage contract drawn up between you and Miss Ginevra Weasley; I recommend you destroy that document as soon as you return to the past. In _this_ folder, I have compiled information regarding many suitable candidates for each title. I suggest that you marry a girl from each Hogwarts House; for example, the Lady Ravenclaw should be a girl from Ravenclaw house. Do you understand me so far?"

"Uhh…"

"Right. You need a wife for each Founder title, as well as a Lady Potter and a Lady Peverell. Seeing as you are the only heir to the House of Black, if your godfather should die without a child of his own, the title of Head of House Black immediately passes to you. This would mean you would need yet another wife."

"I'm really uncomfortable with all this."

"Really, Mr. Potter, it's not as if we're asking you to be the next King Solomon and have 700 wives. Merging all the titles into one is too risky; one woman producing the heirs to each of those Houses would lead to corruption, especially if she only produces one or two children. But if the titles are dispersed into different bloodlines, it would be much safer. Besides, Mr. Potter, you did agree to follow all instructions we give you."

"Fine," Harry agreed grudgingly.

"Now, as for the use of your name and image; I suggest you seek help from this law firm." He handed Harry a form. "Bayly, Black, and Prewett are the best in the business; they have dealings in both the magical and Muggle communities. The firm was founded by James Bayly the second, Marius Black, and Ambrose Prewett; the three men all had one major thing in common. Can you guess what that was?"

Harry thought for a moment.

"They were all Squibs, weren't they?"

"Exactly, Mr. Potter. They realized that all magical employment was closed to them, so they found the one thing that could make them money in _both_ worlds. Magical or Muggle, everyone needs a lawyer at _some_ point; especially if that person is famous. Quite frankly I'm surprised you didn't take action last time, Mr. Potter; what with all the people using your name to sell things."

"What?"

"Honestly, Mr. Potter, why didn't you try harder to learn about the magical world you claimed to love so much? It is well-known that several authors wrote children's fantasy stories about you while you were still living with your aunt's family; incidentally, it was these same children's books that Miss Weasley grew up reading. If I had to venture a guess, they only exacerbated her obsession with you."

"Right," Harry sighed.

"However, if you go to Bayly, Black, and Prewett, you can get all the legal representation you need. With them on your side, much of the damage to your life can be fixed in less than two weeks. Moreover, it is imperative that you hire someone from that firm to serve as executor of your parents' will."

"I didn't even know they had a will."

"Mr. Potter, your father was the heir to one of the most prestigious magical families in Great Britain; what's more, he and his wife were living in a time where it was common for even pure-bloods to turn up dead every other day. Don't you think your parents would have the good sense to leave a will should anything happen to them?"

"It does sound like the sensible decision," Harry conceded.

"Also, Mr. Potter, when you return, I feel it is in your best interest to have a routine checkup at St. Mungo's. You, like many of the Muggle-raised, are rather ignorant of standard medical procedures in the magical community. You have yet to be vaccinated against Dragon Pox, Spattergroit, and various other magical ailments; you barely even have the standard Muggle equivalent of medical treatment. The various injuries you sustained over the years you resided with your relatives have gone untreated; this includes bones that have healed incorrectly and the scarring from all the times you were beaten by your relatives. And of course there is the matter of the binding on your magic."

"Wait, what?"

"You'll find out later. Another benefit to gaining assistance from Bayly, Black, and Prewett is that you may petition for restraining orders. People such as Draco Malfoy and Professor Snape would be banned from even communicating with you."

"That does sound good," Harry admitted. "But, wait, what about Potions class?"

"It is a very little-known fact, Mr. Potter, but the Hogwarts Charter states that students may hire private instruction should they feel the school's professors are not teaching them optimally. Here is a copy of the text." He handed Harry the said parchment.

The thought of never having to deal with Snape again filled Harry with unparalleled glee. True, Snape was working for the good guys in the end, but that did not excuse a variety of things. Snape had been perfectly fine with the idea of James and Harry being killed as long as Lily survived so he could catch her on the rebound; Snape deliberately tormented anyone who was not a member of his House; he was also responsible for the decreased number of potions-masters in Britain because so few people made it through his class, and even less wanted to deal with the man through their NEWTs. Snape was just the type of person who shouldn't be allowed to teach children.

"Okay," Harry stated, "So, I contact Bayly, Black, and Prewett at the earliest possibility."

"That's right; we will have to go over a few more things with you before you can return to the past.

"Firstly, I would like you to read over those files on potential wives; trust me, they are all respectable young ladies whom you should at least try and get to know as friends. Second, the fellow upstairs has ordered us to grant you a boon."

"A boon?"

"You are to receive a special skill of your choice. You can ask to be a Metamorphmagus, you can ask for the ability to speak different languages; why, you can even ask for power over the elements. Just about anything is yours for the asking; with the exception of mind-control and the ability to raise the dead."

Harry really had to think about this. He could ask for any superpower he wanted; this was unbelievable! But how to choose? It was then that he remembered something Tonks said to him: _Bet you wouldn't mind hiding that scar sometimes, eh?_

"I choose the Metamorphmagus ability."

"I had a feeling that was what you would choose, Mr. Potter." Harry noticed that the man was grinning. "Power over elements doesn't seem to be your thing and learning different languages shouldn't be too hard for someone of your mental capabilities. You're a lot more intelligent than you give yourself credit for, Mr. Potter. You need to stop sabotaging yourself; it seems you still forget that the Dursleys can't punish you for doing well in class anymore. And you don't have to dumb yourself down in order to make Mr. Weasley feel better about himself; a real friend would be happy for you to succeed."

Harry spent another hour with this advisor before he was led to yet another meeting.

Harry spent a great deal of time being shuttled from meeting to meeting where he was instructed in what exactly people were up to regarding him in his previous timeline and how to deal with it. He was informed of who to trust and who to tell to sod off. Harry's eyes were finally opened to how badly he'd been manipulated, especially by Dumbledore. The old man was one of the top people on Harry's hit-list.

Soon enough the final preparations were arranged and Harry Potter was sent through something called the Veil of Life (Harry figured it was the opposite of the Veil of Death in the Department of Mysteries). Once the young hero had passed through to the other side, one of the men who had helped him turned to his colleague.

"You don't think he suspects something, do you?"


	2. What is the Main Food That Penguins Eat?

He's Not Dead Yet

**I get it! I don't own Harry Potter or Monty Python, ya blimey, pusillanimous bastards!**

***Looks sheepish* I'm sorry. I get a little…on edge. After all, I haven't slept since 1945.**

What is the Main Food that Penguins Eat?

When Harry's vision cleared, he was sitting on a very familiar wall on a very familiar street. In an alleyway across from him, Harry saw a very, _very_ familiar dog. Harry, thinking quickly, opened his trunk and pulled out a small packet of biscuits he remembered he had stolen from the kitchen and hidden in his trunk in that timeline. He opened the packet, held out a biscuit, and gave a soft whistle. The dog eyed the biscuit hungrily (Harry knew Sirius probably hadn't seen real food in ages) and darted forward to accept the offered food.

"Hey, Padfoot," Harry said as he gave his 'dog'-father another biscuit.

The dog froze and his eyes met Harry's.

"Yes, Sirius, I know who you are and that you're innocent."

The dog began to wag his tail; his eyes looked tearful.

"I can't tell you how at the moment, but I have a plan. I'll need you to pretend to be a dog for a little while longer, okay?"

Sirius nodded.

"Okay." Harry stood up, uttered "_Lumos_," and held out his wand to summon the Knight Bus.

A few moments later, there was a crack and the violently purple triple-decker appeared.

"Welcome to The Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor for this evening."

"Hi," Harry said; he wasn't sure why, but it was actually reassuring to see Stan again; the pimply-faced teen was yet another innocent person whose life he could save. "Er…is it alright if my dog comes with me?"

"Sure 'fing, s'long as 'ee don't cause no trouble," Stan replied.

Stan helped Harry load the trunk onto the bus and directed him over to one of the beds.

"Eleven Sickles," Stan said.

Harry handed him the money and took his seat; Sirius jumped onto the bed after him.

"Take 'er away, Ern."

Harry still wasn't used to the Knight Bus and had to cling to one of the bedposts to keep from falling onto the floor. Sirius gave a soft bark that sounded very similar to a chuckle. Throughout the duration of the ride on the Knight Bus, Harry noticed that Stan was watching him curiously, as if trying to figure out where he'd seen him before. Soon enough, they arrived at the Leaky Cauldron; and who should be there? Why, none other than the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge.

In a matter of minutes, Harry was in a private room in the Leaky Cauldron, having a conversation with the Minister. Harry had to suppress a very real urge to throttle the man for everything he did in the previous timeline. Fudge, once again, asked Harry to stay in Diagon Alley and not venture out into the Muggle world.

"Sir," Harry asked towards the end of the conversation, "I was just wondering, do you know where I can find the law firm of Bayly, Black, and Prewett?"

"Oho, why would you wish to know that, Harry?" the Minister inquired.

"It's just that there are some things I need to sort out and I feel I should consult with legal experts."

"Well, I don't see any harm in telling you, Mr. Potter. Bayly, Black, and Prewett are three blocks up from the entrance to Diagon Alley in a rather stately office building. You can't miss them."

"Thank you, Minister. Good night."

"Good night, Mr. Potter."

Harry followed Tom the barkeeper up to the same bedroom he had the last time. Harry had requested some food for his 'dog,' which Tom quickly supplied. Once they were alone, Sirius changed back into his human form.

"Well, Pup," Sirius said with a curious smile, "I think you said something about an explanation?"

The guys at the Ministry of Death had informed Harry that Sirius was trustworthy with keeping the truth a secret. Even though the man was very addled from his experience at Azkaban, he would do anything for Harry. The next couple hours led to a discussion about what all happened in the previous timeline.

"So, let me get this straight," Sirius said once Harry finished his story. "I was killed…by drapery?"

"Because you weren't taking your fight with Bellatrix seriously," Harry finished.

"Right, and then Dumbledore planned to have old Snivellus kill him. Then you went on a hunt for Voldemort's Horcruxes, which led to a horrendous battle at Hogwarts. And, lastly, you found out that you had a Horcrux in your head and turned yourself over to Voldemort to be killed."

"Yeah," Harry said with a sheepish look.

"What in bloody hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that if there was a chance for Voldemort to be defeated, then I would take it; even if it meant losing my life. What was one boy's life in comparison to all of magical Britain, or even the world?"

"Harry…"

"No, Sirius, it's okay. After I 'died' I was shown into an office at the Ministry of Death. While there, I learned what exactly was going on. Dumbledore had been manipulating my life from the moment he placed me on the Dursleys' doorstep. He knew perfectly well that I would be starved, neglected, even beaten."

Sirius winced and growled internally. Those Dursleys were going to pay for what they did to his Pup; but not as much as Dumbledore who was responsible for putting him there in the first place.

"My advisors at the MoD said that my so-called friends, the Weasleys, were actually spying for Dumbledore as well as being used to influence me. Well, most of the Weasleys are actually trustworthy; it's Molly, Ron, and Ginny who are the problems. Arthur Weasley is cowed by his wife and has no idea what's going on. Percy may act like a pompous git at times, but when he broke away from his family it was actually because he was protecting them (it seems that he knew his promotion was an attempt to spy on the family and so he made it seem like he was angry with them in order to keep them safe and to spy on the Ministry himself). The twins, Fred and George, are rather irresponsible; but, if they can be convinced to try harder, they will actually be even more successful; their loyalty is to their family, unless they find that said family is doing something wrong; plus, they are huge fans of the Marauders and will probably do anything you tell them to once we've cleared your name. Bill and Charlie are nice guys who just want to live their lives and work at the jobs they love; both care about their family, but have some issues with their mother because of how much she tries to convince them to quit their current jobs and work for the Ministry; they would probably take our side, too.

"Molly Weasley has gotten it into her head (probably Dumbledore's doing) that I am destined to marry her daughter. She also probably has her eyes on my money and influence."

"Wouldn't put it past her," Sirius interjected. "Molly Prewett was used to living in a high-standard way. After all, her uncle, Ignatius Prewett, did marry my Aunt Lucretia. And the Blacks never married anyone who was not of a high position and good fortune. Well, except for Cousin Cedrella, but she got disinherited."

"Yep, after she married Septimus _Weasley_." Harry was shaking his head amusedly. Somehow, it always came back to Weasleys. "As for Ginny, the girl has been obsessed with me since she was little; it probably didn't help me that I rescued the girl from Tom Riddle last year.

"And as for Ron; well, what can I say? He's been pretending to be my friend in the hope of getting some of the spotlight, he's been reporting my actions to Dumbledore, and he's hurt my only real friend. Next time I see that bastard, I don't know if I can restrain myself from attacking him."

"Just remember what happened to me, Harry," Sirius pointed out solemnly. "I acted rashly after finding out a friend had betrayed me, and I ended up in Azkaban."

"And that's something we're going to fix. Tomorrow we're going to Bayly, Black, and Prewett; we'll sort out some of my problems and get a defense lawyer to build a case for you."

"Anything else I should know about your plans?"

"Yes, I hope to reform the magical world and bring Hogwarts into the twentieth century. Also, I'm the Heir of the Hogwarts Founders and the Peverells and I will need to have no less than six wives."

There was an awkward pause before Sirius finally spoke.

"I need a drink."

* * *

The next morning found Harry up bright and early. Harry knew he shouldn't show up at a law firm in his cousin's cast-offs, but he didn't have anything nice to wear other than his school uniform; Harry felt that a trip to Madam Malkin's was in order in the near future. After a quick shower and an attempt to tame his hair (helped largely by his new Metamorphmagus ability), Harry was dressed and ready to set out. Sirius had asked to tag-along in his Padfoot form. It was fairly early and not many people were out in Diagon Alley yet. Harry and Sirius made their way cheerily up the street.

Soon they came to a large, limestone building that had a fairly Roman style to it; above the door, in fine gold letters, was the message: **Bayly, Black, and Prewett, Attorneys at Law**. Nervously, Harry rang the bell; a few moments later and the greened-copper doors were opened by a young house-elf. Harry was reminded painfully of Dobby; Harry promised himself that Dobby would _not_ die for him in this timeline.

"Can Nixi helps young master?" the elf squeaked.

"Um, yes, I would like to request legal representation from this law firm," Harry replied.

"Please follow Nixi, sir, and she wills takes you to Missy Bayly."

Harry and Sirius followed Nixi into a finely-decorated waiting room; behind a marble desk was a young woman with soft, grey-blue eyes and Weasley-ish ginger hair that stuck out in odd angles in way that reminded Harry of a Muggle singer by the name of Janis Joplin.

"Missy Bayly, a young man and his dog to see yous."

"Thank you, Nixi," Miss Bayly said.

"Can Nixi get anything for Missy Bayly?"

"No thank you, Nixi; that will be all for the moment."

Nixi disappeared with a pop and Miss Bayly turned her attention to Harry and Sirius.

"Good morning, young man, may I help you?"

"Um, yes, my name is Harry Potter," Harry noticed she went wide-eyed when he said that, "and I was hoping to get some sort of legal representation as I feel there are some things that I will need help in carrying out."

"Certainly, Mr. potter, anything in particular?"

"I would like to see my parents' will and have it carried out. I was only just recently made aware that they had one, in fact."

"Certainly, Mr. Potter, who is your guardian?"

"I have been living with my Muggle relatives for twelve years, but I believe Albus Dumbledore claimed status as my Magical Guardian."

"Very well. Anything else?"

"I would like to discuss that later."

"Alright then." She began to look through a binder. "You're in luck, Mr. Potter; my father, Hamilton Bayly, is available and he is one of the best lawyers in our firm, if I do say so myself."

She led him into a rather cluttered office where a middle-aged gentleman was busily writing something down.

"Mr. Bayly," she said in what was clearly a mock-formal tone, "Mr. Potter is here to see you this morning.'

"What?" the man said startled.

"Mr. Harry Potter to see you."

"Oh, do come in, have a seat."

"He's hoping you will help him in executing his parents' will. It seems that Albus bloody Dumbledore has screwed-up again."

"Frieda, mind your language."

She then turned and offered Harry a hand.

"By the way, I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself before. I'm Frieda Bayly; but everyone just calls me Red."

Harry took the offered handshake.

"Nice to meet you, Red; and, please, call me Harry."

Red smiled and turned to exit the office.

"So, Mr. Potter," Mr. Bayly continued, "you wish to examine the contents of your parents' will? I will be only too happy to help you. Frankly, I'm surprised you didn't hear the will when you were eleven and officially declared a wizard."

"As I mentioned to your daughter, I was only recently made aware that my parents had a will. As for why I haven't heard it yet, your daughter was quite right to say it was Albus Dumbledore's fault. You see, he claimed the status of my Magical Guardian when my parents were killed and I believe he had the will sealed. I have spent the past twelve years living with my Muggle relatives because Albus Dumbledore thought it was the best place for me." Harry noticed that Sirius was growling softly. "As it happened, I grew up thinking that magic didn't exist and being told that my parents died in a car accident that they caused because they were drunk."

"Mr. Potter, I was on fairly good terms with your family," Mr. Bayly said; his eyes were dark. "Your grandmother, Dorea Potter nee Black, was the one who introduced her brother Marius to my father and helped this firm get started. Anyone spreading such falsehoods about James and Lily Potter are going to find themselves in a great deal of trouble." His voice sounded as much like a growl as Sirius'.

"And…lying to me wasn't the only thing they did," Harry stated. Swallowing his pride, Harry related the incidents that had happened to him over the years he had lived with the Dursleys. By the end of it all, Mr. Bayly had to pour himself a glass of sherry.

"Mr. Potter, I can guarantee that you will _never_ be going back to your aunt and uncle," he said. "Furthermore, once we have ascertained the content of your parents' will, we shall push to have you declared an emancipated minor."

"I would also like to request a Gringotts inheritance test," Harry added. "I was informed by an anonymous source that I am an heir to more than just the Potter family."

"Of course, Mr. Potter; I will put you in touch with our company accountant/liaison to Gringotts." He then pressed a button on his desk. "Josiah, I need a word."

"Be right up, Hamilton," a voice replied.

A few minutes later and a well-dressed man with greying red hair swept into the room. Harry remembered that Ron had told him how Mrs. Weasley had a cousin who was an accountant, but the family never talked about him.

"Yes, Hamilton."

"Josiah Prewett, meet Harry James Potter."

"Merlin's Beard!" exclaimed Mr. Prewett as he shook Harry's hand.

"Um, by any chance, are you related to Molly Prewett?" Harry asked.

Mr. Prewett's face darkened.

"Kindly never mention that cow again, Mr. Potter; she, like everyone except her brothers (God rest their souls), shunned me because I was born a Squib. She is a vicious, self-absorbed, overbearing harridan."

"I'm sorry, sir, it's just I heard she had a cousin who was an accountant and I thought…"

"It's alright, Mr. Potter." He waved his hand dismissively. "Now, what is going on, Hamilton?"

Mr. Bayly explained the situation and Mr. Prewett agreed to immediately head over to Gringotts to schedule a meeting in the Inheritance Department. Harry then decided to bring up another issue.

"Mr. Bayly, I was wondering if you knew any details about the trial of Sirius Black," he said.

"Why, no, Mr. Potter; why would you want to know that?"

"Sirius Black was allegedly responsible for my parents' deaths; I just wanted to know if he ever gave a reason for it."

"It's about _time_ someone asked!" another voice interrupted.

Harry turned and saw the voice came from a rather irritated-looking painting of a man who looked very much like Sirius, but more clean-shaven and with shorter hair.

"Marius," Mr. Bayly said, "what are you doing here?"

"I heard my baby sister's grandson was here today; I'll be damned if I just sit in my portrait in my son's office when my grand-nephew finally decides to drop in. Hello, Harry, I haven't seen you since you were no bigger than a Quaffle."

"Um, hello, Mr. Black," Harry replied.

"It's Uncle Marius, Harry. And what's more, when I come by to meet one grand-nephew of mine, I find an opportunity to help another. In all the time I knew Sirius, I know he would never have betrayed little Jamie. Those two were like brothers."

Hearing that, Sirius decided to change form; much to Mr. Bayly's surprise and alarm.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Uncle Marius," Sirius said. "And he's right; I never betrayed James and Lily."

Mr. Bayly was rubbing his temples; it was going to be a long day.

* * *

Two hours and a great deal of tea and sherry later, Mr. Bayly had a clear-cut case to present to the Wizengamot. Harry had also brought up the issue of protecting his image in the media; Mr. Bayly said that Harry could sell the rights to use his name and image and any unauthorized usage would be subject to lawsuits. Harry knew just the media source he would sell the rights to.

Deciding to take a break for lunch before continuing with the plans he was making with Mr. Bayly, Harry stepped out into Diagon Alley with Sirius (in his dog form) trailing behind. The two had a quick meal at the Leaky Cauldron when who should they encounter on their way out? Luna Lovegood was out and about in her rather eccentric attire. Harry never really noticed before, but Luna was quite pretty. Deciding it was as good a time as any, Harry went over to introduce himself.

"Hello," Harry said to Luna, "You're Luna Lovegood, aren't you?"

"Yes," she replied in her rather distracted and dreamy voice, "and you're Harry Potter."

"I believe I've seen you at school. You're in Ravenclaw."

"Yes, we have a very pretty common room."

"As long as it doesn't have any wrackspurts in it, I'm sure it's wonderful."

Luna's face immediately lit up in a smile at the fact that there was someone who obviously didn't think she was crazy for believing in things like wrackspurts.

"I'm afraid that quite a number of my fellow Ravenclaws have nasty cases of wrackspurts. And what makes it worse is that those who do have no interest in getting cured."

"Luna, by any chance, are you related to the owner of _The Quibbler_?" Harry, of course, already knew the answer.

"He's my daddy."

"I was wondering if I could negotiate selling the rights to my name and image to _The Quibbler_. You see, far too many people have been making money off of printing things about me that are completely made up; I want to ensure that anything about me is printed by a trustworthy media source."

Luna's smile became even bigger.

"I'm sure daddy would be happy to help you, Mr. Potter."

"It's Harry, Luna; my friends call me Harry."

"I've always wanted friends," she said with a gentle sigh. "Does your Animagus want to sell the rights to his name and image, too?"

"Huh?" Harry said in disbelief.

"Your Animagus, the Grim sitting next to you?"

"How did…?"

"Oh, was I not supposed to know? I'm sorry."

"No, no, Luna, it's alright, just please keep that quiet."

"Alright, Harry. I'll go find daddy so you can talk to him about that negotiation."

With that, she skipped off.

Harry had forgiven Xenophilius Lovegood for his actions in the previous timeline; he was just a man who wanted to protect someone he loved; Harry could relate to that. Mr. Lovegood was only too pleased to help Harry and joined him at the meeting in Mr. Bayly's office. When Sirius changed back into his human form, rather than be terrified Mr. Lovegood smiled and greeted 'Stubby Boardman.'

"I always knew you were innocent, Mr. Boardman," Xenophilius said. "I've been working on some research and planned to release an article in the coming years. I'm afraid I had to push it back a bit because of a pressing article about a sighting of Blibbering Humdingers."

Sirius gave Harry a look that plainly said 'are you sure about this?'

After a quick assertion that Sirius was not Stubby Boardman, the painting of Marius Black burst into laughter.

"I know why he thinks you're Boardman," the portrait chuckled. "My daughter, Estella Black, married a wizard named Silas Boardman and their eldest son, Stephan, was affectionately dubbed Stubby in his teenage years because he absolutely refused to shave. And the funny thing is he looked just like Sirius. It was even more confusing when the boys went to school together."

Sirius started laughing and told a quick story about the time he had Stubby swap uniforms with him so he could sneak into the Hufflepuff dormitory.

Mr. Bayly's older brother, James Bayly III, was soon called in to draw up the media contract (as contracts were his area of expertise). Within an hour, _The Quibbler_ had exclusive rights to Harry Potter's name and image. After that meeting was over and the Lovegoods departed (with a promise from Harry to Luna that he would write), Josiah Prewett was shown in and nearly had a heart-attack when he saw Sirius Black. After a quick explanation, Mr. Prewett divulged the arrangement with Gringotts.

"You are scheduled for a meeting on Wednesday at 2.00 pm with Director Ragnok. Until that time, I suggest that you make a point of going in for a robe-fitting unless you already own decent business-attire. I recommend Twilfit and Tattings; they are a little pricey, but the quality of the clothing is worth it. If you are favorable to the idea of having me as your legal representative there, I shall await you at the Leaky Cauldron at 1.15pm.

"As for the will, that shall be read after your meeting with the Director. Director Ragnok was most interested in meeting with you, Mr. Potter; he did not tell me everything, but he did say that, when he checked your bank file, he noticed some errors. I seem to recall Director Ragnok shouting at one of his subordinates about a 'greedy, conniving, old bastard' and 'stealing from valuable clients' or something to that effect."

A look was exchanged throughout the room. Everyone knew exactly who it was that Ragnok was angry with.

"There's one more thing I would like to discuss today," Harry said. "Who do I have to speak with about issuing restraining orders?"

* * *

Libra Black had encountered a number of cases in her time, but none were as appealing to her as the idea of finally seeing that bastard Severus Snape get a good kick in the ego. Her grandfather, Marius Black, may have been a Squib, but Libra was a Hogwarts Alumna of the class of '88. During her years in Hogwarts, one professor had so infuriated her that she was oh-so-tempted to take a leaf out of her forbears' book and resort to some very unpleasant measures in retaliation to the actions of said professor.

Since she was a Black, Libra had been something of a social pariah due to the connections with what was considered a Dark family. But the stigma of her name had also earned her the vicious harassment of the Potions master of Hogwarts; it was not until her 'allegedly' evil cousin, Sirius Black, presented himself in her office that she learned the reason for such derision. After one meeting with the man, Libra knew at once who her favorite cousin was. When her cousin's godson, none other than Harry Potter himself, asked her to draw up a restraining order against Severus Snape, Libra felt that someone upstairs must really like her.

As the young legal official drew up her statements for the Wizengamot, while sipping on some very good sherry, she was imagining just what the look on old sour-grape Snape's face would be when he found out he couldn't bully Harry Potter anymore.

Yes, life was good.

* * *

**Author's Note****: Just thought I should point something out. Yes, Frieda is meant to be a self-insert (I have decided to make cameos in some of my fics), no, that is not my name; my name is actually Laura, but I needed to give my OC a name that sounded like it could be turned into 'Red' so I could be 'Red Bayly.' Also, the name Hamilton is one from my family (Hamilton Winston was my great-great-great grandfather). Ironically, my dad was a lawyer in real life just like my OC's dad is.**

**I have also decided to cut back on the use of my OC in this fic as I think she came across as annoying in the original.**


	3. What Do U Keep Your Hard-boiled Eggs in?

He's Not Dead Yet

**Do we really have to go through this? *Sigh* Fine. I don't own Harry Potter or anything to do with Monty Python.**

What Do You Keep Your Hard-boiled Eggs In?

Harry was fairly nervous when he walked into Gringotts that Wednesday. He had dressed up in a respectable set of grey-blue robes and decided to use his Metamorphmagus ability to force his hair to lie flat; Harry decided he wasn't going to play around with his eyesight right then, but he did reduce the prominence of his scar. True to his word, Mr. Prewett had met him at the Leaky Cauldron at 1.15 pm; his reason for being early was that goblins respect those who honor their appointments with the bank (punctuality being critical).

Harry approached the teller.

"Good afternoon, sir, we're here for a meeting with Director Ragnok," he said.

"Names?"

"Harry Potter and Josiah Prewett."

"You're not scheduled until 2.00, Mr. Potter."

"We wanted to ensure that we would not be late, sir," Harry replied. "We also wanted to be certain that any business the honorable Director had was completed in full so that we do not take up too much of his time."

The goblin, whose name was Steelsword, was rather surprised by the respect the young wizard was showing. Most wizards and witches in Britain had little regard for the practices and procedures of Gringotts; many just barged in and demanded to be shown to their vaults or whatever else they came for. Steelsword began to feel that he was not dealing with an ordinary wizard; he immediately set off for the Director's office. Within ten minutes, Harry and Mr. Prewett were shown into their meeting early.

"Mr. Potter," Director Ragnok said, "It is good to finally meet you. Since you first entered Gringotts to withdraw money from your trust vault, we have sent you annual statements about all Potter family funds and have yet to hear any response."

"My sincerest apologies, Director Ragnok," Harry said. "The first correspondence I ever received from the magical world was my Hogwarts letter. After that, the only mail I have received has been from a few close friends."

"That is very suspicious, Mr. Potter. Have you never even received fanmail? You are one of the most famous wizards in Britain."

"I'm afraid not, sir."

"Hmm." Ragnok's eyes were narrowed. "There is another matter I wish to discuss, Mr. Potter. We have found certain discrepancies in your account. What we have discovered is that someone has been illegally withdrawing money and other objects from your vault. The only person we believe to have that power is your so-called Magical Guardian, a Mr. Albus Dumbledore."

"So, the old bastard does it again," Harry heard Mr. Prewett mutter.

"Indeed, Mr. Prewett," Ragnok responded, startling Prewett who had thought he hadn't spoken very loudly. "We observed the inventory of Mr. Potter's trust vault and found that Mr. Dumbledore has removed a great deal of money and Potter family heirlooms."

"How could he even get into Mr. Potter's vault at all? Only a goblin can access it."

"True. We learned that the account manager for the Potter vaults has been taking bribes. I can safely assure you that he won't be doing it ever again." The shark-like grin told the two humans all they needed to know about the goblin's fate. "Luckily, Dumbledore was not able to access the Potter family vaults; those are ancient and require a blood identification to enter."

"Director Ragnok," Harry spoke up, "has Dumbledore been arranging anything else without my knowledge or consent? Like…a marriage contract?"

"I'm glad you asked, Mr. Potter." Ragnok passed Harry the dreaded document. "This certificate, signed by Albus Dumbledore, dictates that you are to marry a Miss Ginevra Molly Weasley no later than her seventeenth birthday."

Harry felt sick and he noticed that Mr. Prewett was clenching his fists at the mention of Molly Weasley's daughter.

"Can Dumbledore get away with this?" Mr. Prewett asked.

"Until we know if he had the authority to name himself as Mr. Potter's Magical Guardian, he can; unless Mr. Potter becomes emancipated or has a different guardian."

"We're actually working on that, and the latter will probably be mentioned at the will-reading."

"Very good. Now, as for why you set up this meeting, Mr. Potter. The Inheritance Department had issued this." He held up a blank piece of cream-colored parchment. "Simply sign your name with this and the parchment will reveal if you have any other titles and vaults to claim."

Harry was handed a blood quill; the sensation of holding said object nearly made him ill from all the bad memories associated with it. Harry signed his name on the parchment and immediately a list appeared.

_Harry James Potter_

_-Heir of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter_

_-Heir of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Peverell_

_-Heir of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Gryffindor_

_-Heir of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Ravenclaw_

_-Heir of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Hufflepuff_

_-Heir of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Slytherin _

_-Heir of the Noble House of Florus  
-Heir of the Ancient House of Evans_

"Well, well, Mr. Potter, this is quite intriguing," Ragnok said as his shark-like smile became more pronounced.

* * *

After the inheritance test in which Harry was informed he held all rights to the vaults and properties of the families mentioned, it was time for the will-reading. Harry and Mr. Prewett took their seats as Director Ragnok, accompanied by the head of the Department for Wills, a goblin named Earwrench, began the proceedings.

"We are gathered here today," Earwrench said, "to witness the reading of the joint Last Will and Testament of James Charlus Potter and his wife Lily Anne Potter nee Evans."

Earwrench set an ornately-decorated gold box on the table and unlocked it. From the box, he withdrew a parchment that bore an official-looking seal in red wax. Harry noted that the seal depicted a lion with its right paw stepping down on a pair of crossed swords. Once the document was unrolled, it began to hover in midair as a voice read off what was written.

"_I, James Charlus Potter, being of sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath everything that I own, in both money and property, to my only son, Harry James Potter; with several personal bequests._

"_Firstly, to my closest friend and confidant, my brother in all but blood, Sirius Orion Black, I leave 200, 000 Galleons. Don't spend it all in one go, Padfoot; and to anyone listening, that's not an exaggeration._

"_Secondly, to my other dear friend, Remus John Lupin, I leave 100, 000 Galleons and an annual stipend of 5000 Galleons should he not have current employment._

"_Thirdly, to my friend, Peter Edmund Pettigrew, if I died by natural causes, then I leave you 100, 000 Galleons, as well. However, if I died by Voldemort's hand or at the hands of a Death Eater, then I demand your immediate arrest. I trusted you with my and family's lives when I appointed you as Secret-Keeper._

"_Now, let me turn over this will-reading to my dear Lily-flower._"

"_**Don't call me that, James! I, Lily Anne Potter nee Evans, being of sound mind and body, take upon myself the continuation of this will.**_

"_**Should both I and my husband be dead, the following people have been approved as suitable guardians for our son.**_

_**-Francis Albert Longbottom and Alice Diane Longbottom nee Baldwin: they are good friends of ours and Alice is Harry's godmother. They are a settled, married couple who have a child of their own and are our first choice as guardians.**_

_**-Sirius Orion Black: while I feel that Sirius tends to be irresponsible, I know he would always put Harry first and would defend him to his dying breath; this is why we appointed him as Harry's godfather.**_

_**-Remus John Lupin: while he might be reluctant to look after a child due to a certain health condition, we feel that he is capable of caring for our son.**_

_**-Amelia Susan Bones: she is James' godsister and a good friend of ours; she is also looking after her niece and I know that little Susan always got along swimmingly with Harry whenever we were asked to babysit.**_

_**-Mary Adelaide MacDonald: one of my good friends from school, with whom I have kept correspondence. I know that Mary is engaged at the moment, but I'm sure she and her husband-to-be would make wonderful adoptive parents for Harry.**_

_**-Theodore Henry Tonks and Andromeda Ursula Tonks nee Black: they are a trustworthy family and Andromeda is Sirius' cousin; I have had the pleasure of meeting them and their daughter on numerous occasions and know they would be perfectly suitable.**_

"_**Should any of these people be unable to look after Harry, we request that he be placed with a family determined by the Wizengamot as long as that family was never involved with the Death Eaters; not even if they claimed to have been under the Imperius Curse. To whichever family that Harry is sent to live with, a stipend of 10, 000 Galleons will be supplied each year.**_

"_**Also, under no circumstances is our son to **__**ever**__** go to my sister and her family. Petunia and I are not on good terms and I know that she and her husband despise magic.**_"

"_Besides, the woman is a right bitch."_

"_**James!**_"

"_Well, she is, Lily-flower. Remember what happened at our engagement party?_"

"_**I guess you have a point, there.**_

"_**Anyway, before we go, we'd like to say a few things to our son. Harry, sweetheart, we both love you more than anything else in the world. We know you will grow up into a fine young man.**_"

"_And I know that you'll be a real catch with the ladies since you got my good looks._"

"_**I just hope he didn't get your enormous head, James.**_"

"_Oh, Harry, make sure you get some good pranking in. You've got a legacy to live up to as a Marauder's son._"

"_**James, stop it. Ignore your father, Harry; you don't have to pull pranks if you don't want to. Personally, I'd rather you didn't.**_"

"_Oh, come on, Lils! Don't be such a killjoy!_"

"_**Goodbye, Harry; we love you.**_"

"_Love you, Prongslet._"

**This will was witnessed by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.**

"Well," Earwrench said once the will went silent and fell to the table, "it seems we've got quite a situation."

"Indeed," Ragnok added with a slight snarl. "Albus Dumbledore knew the contents of this will and purposefully undermined its instructions. Mr. Potter, I do believe you can destroy that marriage contract now."

Without missing a beat, Harry pulled out the contract as Mr. Prewett handed him a lighter. Within moments, the ashes of the illegal marriage contract fell to the floor. It was oddly satisfying to watch.

"Now that that is sorted out," Ragnok continued, "we can proceed. Obviously those mentioned will receive their inheritance; with the exception of Mr. Pettigrew, who is a traitor. Mr. Potter, if you are ready, I will have someone escort you to your family vaults."

"Yes, sir," Harry said. "May I request Griphook? He showed me down to my trust vault the first time I ever came here."

Ragnok and Earwrench looked surprised. Neither of them knew of an occasion where a goblin was requested, by name, by a wizard. Griphook was called in; he, too, was surprised that a wizard knew him by name. As Harry and Mr. Prewett were led out, Ragnok turned to Earwrench.

"This young Mr. Potter is a most unusual wizard," he said.

"Indeed, sir," Earwrench agreed. "Perhaps it will be beneficial to the Goblin Nation if we keep an eye on this young man."

"You are right, Earwrench. The boy has treated us with courtesy not commonly found in the wizarding world. Something doesn't sit well with me, though."

"What is it, sir?"

"Firstly, I want to know why Albus Dumbledore has been interfering with Mr. Potter's funds. That action alone is cause to ban the headmaster from Gringotts. Also, I want to know why he went against the instructions in the Potter will. Everyone knows that young Mr. Potter was sent to live with his Muggle relatives; but, it seems that such an action was illegal."

"Shall I inform the staff, sir?"

"No, not yet; I want to wait and see what Mr. Potter plans to do about this."

"Yes, sir. Sir?"

"Yes, Earwrench?"

"I was sensing there was something off in Mr. Potter's reaction when his Muggle relatives were mentioned."

"Yes, I saw it, too. He seemed to tense. What do you think it means?"

"I saw the boy when he first came to Gringotts, sir. He was in the company of that half-giant, Rubeus Hagrid. From where I was sitting, the boy looked as though he was wearing rags and hadn't been fed. I could also smell blood, perhaps from an untreated wound."

"You don't think…" the Director trailed off as he and Earwrench exchanged a look.

It is a little-known fact about goblins that, though they are violent in nature, they cannot condone the harming of a child. The idea that the heir to one of their oldest clients (and, as it turned out, the heir of several other, even older clients) had been abused, was something that thoroughly disgusted the two goblins. To the goblins, children were deemed a blessing, and to harm one was seen as one of the most disgusting acts a person could commit. The two goblins made a silent agreement that if what they suspected about Mr. Potter's home-life was correct, they would gladly give their support in executing vengeance.

* * *

The journey down to the Potter family vaults was longer than the one to Harry's trust vault; the cart took them down, down into one of the deepest levels of the bank, the location of the oldest family vaults. Instead of a dragon, something else guarded the Potter vaults; a large, yellow-furred sphinx with a thick, brown mane and green almond-shaped eyes sat there staring at them.

"The Potter vaults have been guarded by a sphinx for generations," Griphook explained. "The Potters started the tradition on the grounds that any Potter who can't answer a few simple questions doesn't deserve access to the vault."

The sphinx smirked cheekily at Harry, as though she held assumptions about his worthiness.

"Ask away," Harry said to the creature.

The sphinx grinned and began.

"Who approaches the Potter vaults must answer me these questions three, ere the other side he see," she said.

"Ask me the questions, Miss Sphinx," Harry said. "I'm not afraid."

"What is your name?"

"Harry James Potter."

"What is your quest?"

"To inspect my family's vaults."

"What…is your favorite color?"

"Green."

"Right, off you go."

Harry looked at the sphinx curiously.

"Uh…thank you?"

The two men and the goblin then proceeded onwards.

"She always gives an easy question to the Potters," Griphook explained. "You should hear some of the things she asks others who have tried to get through to the vaults."

"Like what?"

"I believe she asked Albus Dumbledore what the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow was."

"An African or European swallow?" asked Josiah.

Griphook smirked and shrugged.

"Is there a way I can withdraw money from my account without having to come all the way down to the vaults every time?" Harry asked.

"Why, yes, Mr. Potter. We've developed special wallets that allow you to automatically withdraw coins from you money vault. However, if you wish to see your family heirlooms, artefacts, and documents, then you will have to come to the vault in person."

After making a mental note to purchase one of those wallets, Harry approached the first vault. Griphook unlocked the vault door and opened it to reveal an enormous chamber that was filled to the ceiling with gold, silver, and (to a lesser extent) bronze coins.

"Don't spend it all in one place, Mr. Potter," Josiah quipped good-naturedly.

The next vault they visited was entirely dedicated to jewellery and other objects of value that would be used by the Lady Potter. They then moved on to a vault that possessed the family books of magic (a number of the spellbooks had their origins in other families that the Potters had inter-married with); Harry made sure to pick some to bring with him. There was a smaller vault that held what was salvaged from the house at Godric's Hollow, and then there was a huge vault that contained the most valuable of the family artefacts and records (including journals, marriage/birth certificates, documents regarding the family properties, and letters), and then there was a vault filled with nothing but priceless gems.

Lastly, there was a vault that contained the portraits of James and Lily Potter; that was something Harry had never thought he could have in his wildest dreams.

Harry entered the vault with immense trepidation. As soon as he stepped inside, the room lit up to reveal the slumbering portraits of Harry's parents.

"Um, hello?" Harry said softly.

"Hmm?" the portrait-James mumbled as he began to wake up. "Harry? Harry, is that you, son?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Lily, wake up! It's Harry!"

"Harry! Sweetheart, it's so wonderful to see you," Lily exclaimed. "We've been waiting ages for you to come see us."

Harry felt himself start to tear up. Finally, he had a way of communicating with his parents. Even if it wasn't _really_ them, it was the closest he would be able to get. Harry had a brief but happy meeting with his parents' portraits. He gave them a short explanation of what had happened to him after their deaths (Lily was so enraged that she seemed prepared to attempt to escape from her portrait with the intention of killing Albus Dumbledore). Before Harry left, his parents' portraits suggested that he have them sent to Potter Manor for the time being.

Once the business at Gringotts was concluded, Harry headed back to the Leaky Cauldron.

* * *

Later that day, Albus Dumbledore was sitting in his office, making plans for the "Greater Good" as he often did, when an owl swooped in and dropped a letter on his desk. Dumbledore immediately recognized the Gringotts seal and knew that something was wrong.

_Dear Mr. Dumbledore,_ the letter began,

_It has come to our attention that you have been interfering with bank policy and have tampered with the accounts of another of our clients, a Mr. Harry James Potter. Active immediately, your account has been seized until you have repaid the money you have stolen, plus interest._

_Sincerely,_

_Chief Director Ragnok_

This was not good.


	4. Been Shopping? No, I've Been Shopping

He's Not Dead Yet

**This is the mandatory shopping-trip chapter as seen in just about every strong!smart!independent!Harry fic.**

**Once again, I do not own Harry Potter or any Monty Python jokes.**

"Been Shopping?" "No, I've Been Shopping."

The days that followed were truly enjoyable for young Harry Potter. He was maintaining a delightful correspondence with Luna Lovegood; her letters were always filled with stories of some of her 'interesting' creatures. Harry had also encountered Neville Longbottom; and, unlike the last time, Harry decided to try and befriend him then; Harry had also taken it upon himself to inquire if Neville was using a wand that had belonged to someone else (of course, Harry already knew the answer); the result of this conversation led to Harry revealing that it is the "wand that chooses the wizard" and that it is harder to get results with a wand that hasn't chosen you. Harry had a feeling that Neville wouldn't be using his father's wand for much longer.

Another positive was that Mr. Bayly had instructed his daughter to help Harry with his shopping; this was a good thing because it meant Harry actually had a guide for both Diagon Alley and Muggle London. Red saw to it that Harry really did learn his way around and that he would have a decent wardrobe when he went back to Hogwarts. Red was a pretty fun person to hang out with, even if she was rather strange at times; she had been a Hufflepuff when she attended Hogwarts and was quite a decent potion-brewer.

"I would have continued on to NEWT level, if it didn't mean I had to deal with Snape for two more years. I ended up taking summer courses at the Salem Institute in America. Say, if you're looking for a Potions teacher, seeing as you're getting that restraining order against Snape, I know this guy who would be perfect. His name's Robert Preston; I met him at Salem and he's a genius."

Red introduced Harry to the entirety of Diagon Alley in a matter of days. It turned out that there was much more to the magical shopping area than Harry first realized.

"Over there is Magical Imports and Exchange," Red pointed out. "They opened a few years ago and trade in just about anything. The business was actually started by a group of Muggle-borns who seized upon the opportunity of the Common Market. It's a pity that the Common Market evolved into the horrible, flesh-rending monster that is the European Union; but, really, it worked out fairly well in the magical community.

"Over there, that little shop on the left, that's Brimstone Metal-Workers; they make some of the finest custom jewellery in magical Britain; though, personally, I think you can find equally nice jewellery in the Muggle world.

"That shop over there is Fetterwick's Publishing Company; they are the single-most popular place to get any work published. They even provide book-binding service; of course, that is carried out by cousins of the Bayly family. Great-great-granddad was quite vexed when Ewan MacBayly tricked him out of the ownership of the business."

As they chatted, Harry found he really liked Red; she was a real gold-mine of information and had an older sister quality to her. Eventually, they reached a point where Red asked if Harry had a back-up wand.

"Well, no, I never knew you could get a back-up wand," Harry said.

"Well, we can sort that out right now," Red responded. "I actually got my back-up before I even set foot in Ollivander's. Follow me."

When they approached the entrance to Knockturn Alley, Harry was more than a little put-off.

"Don't worry, Harry," Red reassured him, "these people know who I am and that if they try anything my father can have them shipped straight to Azkaban."

She led him down into the darkened alley. People shied away from Red a bit, obviously hoping not to get on the wrong side of the only child of a man like Hamilton Bayly. She steered Harry into a small, sketchy-looking shop. The bell rang as the door opened and a grubby man in dirty, greying clothes approached.

"Miss Bayly," he greeted in an oily tone, "what a pleasure to see you again. How may I be of service?"

"Good afternoon, Mr. Leech; a young client of my father's has expressed an interest in a 'special' wand."

"Ah, of course, a magical focus requisit-t-t-t-te." Harry noticed that the man 'tutted' his 't's. "Let's take a look at magical cores, young man. Just stick your hand over the wand core samples and you should feel the magical energy coming off it." He led Harry over to the wand core samples. "Why don't you try this one, sir? It's our latest arrival; Essence of Sea Mist."

Harry held his hand out over the bottle but felt only a faint twinge of energy.

"Hmm, sorry, no," Harry said.

"Ah, well, how 'bout something a little more musky, this one's hair of Mimmo."

The connection was even weaker that time.

"No."

"Ah, a tricky one, eh?"

They tried a few more magical cores before Harry felt a huge amount of energy come from some strange animal fur.

"Ah, I see you've picked something up with this," said Mr. Leech. "A very special material, that is. Yes, fur from a Burmese flying-tiger."

"I'm feeling a huge magical connection," Harry said.

"Very well, sir; I'll get you a strand for your wand. Now, on to woods."

It took a much shorter time with woods. Eventually, Harry picked out a block of almond wood.

"Now for a focus gem," Mr. Leech continued. He led Harry over to a selection of gemstones. Harry simply held his hand over these until one lit up.

"Ah, yes, I got this diamond from a fire-crab shell."

"Isn't that illegal?" Red asked.

"Moving along! Well, well, well, this is quite interesting."

"What's interesting?" Harry asked.

"Oh, just the combination of materials, sir. Yes. Crab, tiger, and almond; very unusual. Anyway, I'll have the wand ready by the end of the week. That will be 1000 Galleons."

"He'll pay you half now and half when the job is done," Red answered.

"I wouldn't expect anything else, Miss Bayly; I do work in Knockturn Alley, after all."

As the two headed out, Harry inquired if what they just did was legal.

"Sort of," Red answered. "His acquisition of the materials is probably borderline-legal, at best. Having a second wand is frowned-upon by society; I'll never understand why that is, though. Best not to tell people about this, Harry; only confide in someone you are absolutely certain you can trust."

"Why didn't Mr. Leech recognize who I was?"

"Oh, he did, but he doesn't really pay attention to people's names unless they can cause trouble for him in court."

"Well, it certainly makes a nice change. He's one of the only shopkeepers we've met who hasn't gotten worked up because I'm the bloody Boy-Who-Lived."

"Well, if you're so anxious to get away from your fame, I'd be more than happy to take you shopping in Muggle London."

"Really?"

"Sure. I have been recruited as your escort, Mr. Potter; and I'll be damned before I let you down. Tell me, have you ever been to Harrods?"

About an hour later found Harry walking about in the prestigious London department store. Red had quite a bit of fun picking out clothes for her young charge and Harry actually didn't mind. Red did admit that she was not the most experienced person when it came to choosing clothes for other people as she preferred to buy simple, functional clothing and never really pursued shopping as an activity for entertainment. Once they had finished the bulk of their shopping, they stopped for lunch. As they enjoyed their meal, Harry asked if he could talk to Red about something; she quickly and discreetly put up a Privacy Charm.

"So, what's on your mind, sport?" she asked.

Harry sighed; if there was anyone he could trust with what he was about to say, he knew Red was it.

"It's just…I found out that my statuses as Lord Potter, Lord Peverell, Lord Gryffindor, Lord Slytherin, Lord Hufflepuff, and Lord Ravenclaw mean that I will need a wife for each title. And then, if Sirius never has a kid, I'm the heir of House Black and will need a wife for that title, too. I just don't know how to go about this."

"Well, Harry, that is quite a conundrum. If you're worried about how any prospective candidate will react to sharing you, the only girls you might get some grief from are the Muggle-borns. The older, pure-blood girls will probably understand the importance of dividing up the titles into different bloodlines. Half-bloods…they usually lean more towards the Muggle view of monogamy, but it depends how they were raised. Many families in the magical world are exclusively monogamist; however, some of the older families still practice polygamy if there is only one heir to multiple titles. I believe the last time it happened was about eighty years ago when the only daughter of the Judrel family married the heir of the Chumley family. They had one son who was heir to both families and had to take a second wife when the first only produced one son."

"But I need _six_ wives," Harry pointed out. "Seven if I inherit the Black Lordship from Sirius."

"Well, you could compile all the titles into one, but that would be incredibly risky. If you only have one or two children then they will have more power available to them than they could handle. Incidentally, having only one woman as the Lady for all those titles would be a social risk that could end up alienating a lot of old families who would feel slighted. I suggest that you follow through with the six wives thing. Not because I agree with it on a moral or ethical level; absolutely not, I am an avid feminist and do not believe in treating women like political tools. However, in this society, you need to take some of the customs _cum grano salis_."

"So, basically, I have to accept them but maintain a degree of skepticism?

"Or cynicism; that works just as well."

"I bet Hermione will throw a fit when she finds out."

"Ooh, do I detect a hint of romance already?" Red gave Harry a suggestive smirk.

"Well, I don't know. I mean, I've been friends with her since first year and always thought my feelings for her were those of a brother for his sister."

"Harry, you are an only child who grew up in a neglectful environment. How would you know what a brother's feelings are for his sister?"

"Well, I… I never really thought of it that way."

"Harry, your romantic life is not really any of my business. But, if you want my advice, girls tend to like guys who want to be their friends first and _then_ their romantic interest. However, don't take that as a general rule for the entire female population. All girls are different and each one has her own standards about what she looks for in a man. I can easily say that you meet quite a number of standards for quite a great deal of young witches. I will warn you, though, that you should avoid going for girls who only want the Boy-Who-Lived rather than just Harry Potter. Those are what we class as fangirls. While they mean well, their interests tend to be rather self-centered and superficial. Go for girls who want to know _you_."

"Thanks, Red, I'll be sure to keep that in mind." After his experience with Ginny, Harry definitely intended to follow that advice.

* * *

Another good thing that happened was that Harry met one of the girls that had been recommended to him in the file from the MoD.

Harry had been looking around in Flourish and Blott's, picking up his school-books earlier than last time and also getting some books on magical culture and history. He was just reaching for a book on Arithmancy (he had written to Professor McGonagall and asked to change his schedule) when someone else had decided to reach for it at exactly the same moment. Harry heard a very feminine gasp when his hand accidentally brushed against the other person's. Harry looked up and saw a very pretty girl; she had waist-length, perfectly straight, blonde hair and deep, aqua-green eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she apologized.

Harry, ever the chivalrous gentleman, picked up the book and handed it to her.

"Quite alright," he said and offered his hand. "I'm Harry."

The girl smiled as she shook his hand.

"I think everyone knows who you are, Mr. Potter," she said. "I'm Daphne Greengrass."

"Oh, yeah, I recognize you. You're in my year, in Slytherin."

Daphne Greengrass had commonly come to be known as the Slytherin Ice Queen; no one had yet to break through her frigid attitude. Daphne had often held herself aloof; no guy seemed to be worthy of her attention. Yet, when she looked at the emerald-green eyes of the boy before her, she was terrified of being rejected. She knew that Gryffindors believed that Slytherins were evil, a fact that wasn't helped by that bastard Malfoy.

"Um, yes," she replied shyly. _Great response there, Daph_, she thought; _now he'll probably think you're an idiot on top of being evil_.

"Well, it's nice to meet you," Harry said with a warm smile that made the Slytherin girl feel very tingly inside. "So, you're taking Arithmancy, too?"

"Yes, I-I mean I felt it will be a very interesting course."

"Much better than something stupid like Divination; bet the only thing a person could predict in _that_ class is whether or not the teacher's mental."

The two teens chuckled slightly.

"What else are you taking?" Harry asked.

"I signed up for Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures."

"So did I; I guess we'll be seeing a lot more of each other this year."

"Yeah," Daphne said with a slight sigh.

"I look forward to it." Harry then checked his watch. "Oops, gotta run. I'll see you around, Daphne."

As he went to pay for his books, Daphne stared after him.

"See you around…Harry."

* * *

Harry had also begun doing a study of the files that Gringotts had given him about the various properties he owned. Potter Manor was the one he was most interested in and he and Sirius made plans to spend Christmas there. In addition to Potter Manor were a number of Potter family estates in various countries that would most certainly be worth a visit next summer. Then there was the Peverell estate (an ancient castle situated on a cliff over-looking the shore at Hastings), and the Evans estate (Harry's mother's magical ancestors were from Wales and were renown as Battle-Mages before the last remaining son was discovered to be a Squib), and the Florus estate which, according to the details in the folder, possessed the largest privately-owned gardens in the world. Then, of course, there were the properties owned by the Founders; Hufflepuff Manor was relatively small and situated in a sweeping valley in Wales (the Hufflepuffs were apparently allied with the Evans in the old days), Slytherin Castle was a very old and forbidding-looking place in the marshy region of the Fens, Ravenclaw's home was a large castle in a deep valley in Scotland, and Gryffindor Castle seemed to be a highly-fortified structure just outside of Godric's Hollow in the West Country.

Then, of course, there were the accompanying assets of his heritage. As Harry was descended from all four of the Hogwarts Founders, he was the legal owner of Hogwarts School, its grounds, and the village of Hogsmeade. Diagon Alley was originally built by Lord Jovian Peverell and Lord Marcellus Potter in the 1200s and most of the original shops still maintained a steady business; as the land was owned by the Peverell and Potter families, and as Harry Potter was the heir to both, this meant, naturally, that Harry was the owner of Diagon Alley and received an annual rent from every business therein with the exception of Gringotts Bank which was legally the territory of the goblins. Of course, there were also the business ventures of his family; it seems that his parents and various forbears were quite good at making investments in both the magical and Muggle worlds; let's just say that being a partner in businesses like the Nimbus Broom Company and Microsoft is nothing to sneeze at.

Harry was feeling more connected with his family than he even imagined. To fully understand the impact his forbears had had on the magical community, Harry purchased a number of books; among these were _The Potters: A Family History_, _Peverell: The Legacy of the Legendary Inventors_, _Famous Battle-Mages of Wales_, _The Florus Compendium: A Documentation of the Florus Family's Contribution to Herbology_, _The Life and Times of the Hogwarts Founders_, and _The Potter Family and the World of Quidditch_.

There was much more to his family than Harry had ever expected. It was a good thing that Harry, though not an obsessive reader like Hermione, actually did enjoy reading; he would have read more in the previous timeline were it not for the interference of a certain red-headed 'friend' of his. The books he had purchased about his family had been truly enlightening.

In _The Potter Family and the World Quidditch_, it revealed that several Potter sons had joined up with several other families to form the first England Quidditch Team (the Potter heir, Crispin Potter, set the first record for fastest player). Once the addition of Seeker was made to Quidditch, a witch by the name of Constanza Potter was the first official Seeker for the Holyhead Harpies.

The Potters also seemed to be a family that prided themselves on their ability to effectively pass legislature and enforce their policies through government. There were a few shady characters in the family tree, as there often are in any family; one particular Lady of the House of Potter was documented as going insane (as in, the type of insane that made Bellatrix Lestrange seem like a qualified care-giver at the Children's Ward in St. Mungo's) and nearly brought about the destruction of Britain, a younger Potter son was deeply involved in the Dark Arts and caused the deaths of all but one of his siblings, and a set of twin girls in the Potter family were legendary for the fact that they had an infamous battle (one was a Light witch and the other a Dark witch) that only ended with the intercession of the then king of England, Edward the Confessor; only for the fighting to start up again after his death until Isolde (the Light witch) triumphed over her sister Siora (the Dark witch).

Then of course there were the Peverells. The Peverells had apparently gained quite a bit of prestige from their tradition of ingenuity in magical inventions; not least of which were the Deathly Hallows (but, only Harry and people like Mr. Lovegood and Dumbledore knew who the Three Brothers of the legend were).

The Evans family, as mentioned earlier, were known Battle-Mages and highly skilled in Runic Magic. From what Harry learned, it was highly possible that his mother had used Runic Magic to protect him the night she sacrificed herself (at least, that was what he theorized when he saw that the Evans family Rune for 'Protection' was in the shape of a lightning-bolt). The Evans family had a long and grueling history of war, violence, loyalty, ruthless efficiency, and an almost fanatical devotion to their homeland and loved-ones. Harry was actually very startled by the lengths some of these people went to in order to protect those they cared about; some things were too unsavory to even contemplate.

Sirius also turned out to be a veritable fount of information thanks to all the time he spent at  
Potter Manor; and then of course there was the fact that Harry's paternal grandmother was Sirius' great-aunt. Despite the dark nature of the Black family, Harry found he didn't mind being related to them; there was something strangely enthralling about the Blacks that Harry couldn't explain; of course, Sirius insisted it was the old 'Black Family Charm.' Whatever the bloody hell _that_ meant.


	5. Parrots Announcing Television Programs

He's Not Dead Yet

**Yep, here's another update. I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Oh, P. S., it's not widely known but Harry actually had three weeks and several days away from the Dursleys before he started school. You see, Aunt Marge stayed for a week after Harry's birthday (July 31****st****) and school starts on September 1****st****. This means that Harry had three weeks and two days all to himself. However, the book states that Harry only had two weeks to himself. This is probably an error that Rowling made because, as she has admitted, she has some difficulty with math and did not calculate the time correctly. This also ties into the incorrect dates I have noticed while reading the series. But, that is neither here nor there.**

…And Parrots Started to Announce Television Programs

Harry Potter awoke on Saturday morning in good spirits. Sirius was looking phenomenally better after having had a few good meals. Harry had just finished getting dressed when Hedwig swooped into the room to deliver a letter from Mr. Bayly. Harry handed the owl a piece of bacon from his breakfast plate and quickly opened the letter only to give a cheerful smile when he finished reading.

"Sirius," he said, "I do believe you'll be getting that trial very soon. Listen to this:

"Dear Mr. Potter,

We have finished preparing for the case and shall present it at the earliest possible date. All that is left to do is find a way to arrange a trial for Mr. Sirius Black before the Wizengamot. If you are not too busy, could you and your godfather stop by our office at 6.00pm? It just so happens that Lady Amelia Bones (Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement) has decided to pay us a visit and I feel it is in your best interest to meet with her.

Yours sincerely,

Hamilton Nathaniel Bayly

Attorney at Law"

Sirius (who was currently in his dog form) looked up excitedly and began to wag his tail. The morning's surprises only continued with the arrival of a letter from Luna.

_Dear Harry,_

_In response to your request, daddy has written the article you requested and, once you and your godfather decide if it's good, we will be only too happy to publish it in this week's edition of __**The Quibbler**__. You will find the article draft enclosed along with the complementary pair of Spectrespecs that all friends of our magazine receive._

_Oh, and thank you for the sunflower bouquet you sent me (there wasn't a single nargle in them); how did you know they are my favorite?_

_Hope to see you soon,_

_Love,_

_Luna_

Harry began to feel his cheeks redden slightly; a fact that wasn't helped by the knowing look Sirius was giving him.

* * *

Amelia Bones, one of the best heads of the DMLE the Ministry had ever had, was currently sitting in the lounge of the single-most successful law firm in the magical world (probably because it was one of the _only_ law firms in the magical world). The reason why she was at such a noteworthy establishment was because she had received a letter the day before that mentioned information about Sirius Black. Ordinarily, she would have replied by telling the author of the letter to simply contact the local Auror office; but the fact that it was this particular law firm that contacted her made her decision to present herself at the office in question.

"Madam Bones," a young woman with curly ginger hair greeted her warmly, "Thank you for coming. Mr. Bayly will be with you presently."

"And, you are?"

"Frieda Bayly; Mr. Hamilton Bayly is my father."

"What exactly is this meeting about, Miss Bayly?"

"Well-"

Red was cut off by the sudden arrival of Harry Potter and a scruffy, black dog.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, thank you for joining us," she said. "A few minutes early, too; excellent." She then went over and opened a door. "They're here."

"Thank you, Frieda, that will be all," Mr. Bayly said dismissing her.

When Frieda had left the room, Mr. Bayly offered some tea and then got down to business.

"Madam Bones," he said, "were you aware that one Sirius Orion Black never received a trial?"

"I beg your pardon?" she gasped.

"Not only that, he was never questioned under Veritaserum, nor was his wand checked with Prior Incantatem. The law clearly states that the maximum amount of time a person can be held until trial is twenty-eight days if the suspect is represented and consents to being held; this Remand period is reduced to seven days if the suspect is not represented or does not consent to a longer Remand period. Seeing as how Mr. Black was imprisoned without trial for twelve years, the Ministry has no reason to have a warrant for his arrest; to say the least of the fact that the Minister has ordered for an administration of the Dementor's Kiss. However, Mr. Black prefers to have the trial in order to ensure his name is cleared."

"You have correspondence with him?" Madam Bones inquired.

"It just so happens that he has been here the entire time we have been talking, Madam Bones."

"What?"

Once again, Sirius reverted to his human form.

"So, am I going to get a trial or what, Amy?" he asked with a superior smirk.

It was not easy to startle Amelia Bones; she was a former Auror and had seen all but one member of her family killed. But seeing the man supposedly responsible for handing the Potters over to Voldemort now sitting calmly beside the boy he was allegedly out to kill; let's just say that Amelia knew she would be in for a great deal of paperwork.

* * *

The following day brought even more promise of a potential trial for Sirius Black with the newest copy of _The Quibbler_. Beneath a photograph of a young Sirius Black and James Potter (that Harry had found in his photo album and lent to Mr. Lovegood for the edition), was an article that sparked controversy up and down the country.

_Sirius-Black as he's Painted?_

_By Xenophilius Lovegood_

_Every witch and wizard in Great Britain's magical community knows what happened on the day after Halloween of 1981; or do they?_

_It is a little-known fact that, even though he was apprehended at the scene of the crime, Sirius Black never received a trial. There was no administration of Prior Incantatem, no interrogation with Veritaserum, and the fact that the man spent twelve years in Azkaban despite the standard procedure being that a suspect cannot be held without trial for a Remand period longer than twenty-eight days. The excuse that "everyone knows he's guilty" is not a feasible explanation for sending any person to Azkaban without due process of the law. If Sirius Black is indeed guilty, why was he not at least interrogated about who other Death Eaters might be? Does the Ministry have something to hide? _

_We obtained an interview with someone (who wishes to remain anonymous) who has actually spoken with Mr. Black after his escape from the supposedly inescapable prison._

"_He did seem a little crazy, but who wouldn't be after spending twelve years in a hell-hole like Azkaban? The place is inhumane. He didn't seem evil to me; if you just looked at his eyes you would see that there is an incredible sadness to them. This was not a man who betrayed the people who were family to him like everyone thinks; this was not a man capable of harming the innocent. This was a man who had seen cruelty and injustice. _

"_I talked with him for a good deal of time. What he revealed to me was shocking. The Potters, when they went into hiding, placed their home under a Fidelius Charm; but, what isn't known is that Sirius Black was not the Secret-Keeper. He told me that James Potter had tried to get him to be the Secret-Keeper, but Black felt that was too obvious a decision. Instead, Black nominated the least-likely person, a man who, unbeknownst to them, had been secretly giving information to the Death Eaters. The Secret-Keeper was none other than Peter Pettigrew._

"_To say I was shocked is an understatement. I asked him about what happened that day he cornered his former friend. What he revealed is something that could shake the very foundation of the accusations against him."_

_Our anonymous source then repeated what Mr. Black said about that fateful day._

"_I had just lost the two people I loved most in the world," said Black, "and my godson was taken away on the orders of Albus Dumbledore. I had learned the hard way that you should be careful whom you trust; a man I thought I knew turned out to be nothing more than a lying, traitorous bastard. I was angry. No, I was blinded with rage. I knew I should've gone to the Ministry and told them the truth, but I was disoriented by a thirst for vengeance. I just wanted to make the traitor suffer as I was suffering. It was stupid, I know; but if you had lost the people closest to you in the world, what would you have done?_

"_I followed Peter into that crowded street. I knew there were Aurors following us and if I just got a little revenge before they took the bastard away, I could have just a little piece of mind to settle my already guilty conscience. I believe the Muggle term for what I was feeling is 'survivor's guilt.' Anyway, I had him cornered and I had just raised my wand when he pulled his little stunt. He shouted out that I was the traitor and then blew up the street and killed those twelve people. But Peter wasn't dead._

"_I had always feared having to give this revelation but the Ministry never knew there were three unregistered Animagi wandering around. You see, when I was at school, James, Peter, and I all became Animagi. James took the form of a stag, I took the form of a dog, and Peter took the form of a rat._

"_Once he blew up that street and killed all those people, he cut off his finger and transformed to make it look as though I had done it. It was all an elaborate bluff. Peter is still out there, and I am going to find him."_

_We at __**The Quibbler**__ commend Mr. Black for speaking out at last and also thank our anonymous source for bringing this to light._

_**For information on the Fidelius Charm, see page 17**_

_**For information about Animagi, see page 23**_

* * *

It seemed _The_ _Quibbler_ article had done its job. By the time the sun had started to set, the Minister was up to his elbows in howlers from people who were furious over the miscarriage of justice twelve years ago. But Fudge, ever the politician, knew exactly how to get people off his case; all he needed was a scapegoat. Luckily, the scapegoat he was looking for was inside the Ministry that very same day; what was even better was that he knew who to go to in regards to putting all the controversy to rest.

"Amelia," he said to his Head of the DMLE, "by any chance, could we arrange a trial for Sirius Black?"

"I'm sure the man would be only too happy to have the trial he was supposed to have _twelve years ago_." The sharpness in her tone made Fudge flinch.

"Yes, it's entirely Crouch and Bagnold's fault; those two would've sent someone who looked at them askance to Azkaban without a trial. If there's any way to get in contact with Mr. Black, I would be willing to promise him that he would receive the trial owed to him and that those responsible for his incarceration are punished if he is found to be innocent."

"Even if he's found to be guilty," Amelia countered, "Crouch and Bagnold still violated the law. Because he was never convicted and he was held for longer than the allotted Remand period, Black still goes free because of their screw up."

"Right," Fudge admitted. He was seriously hoping that Black was innocent; if he were found guilty, then it would mean a Death Eater goes free. _Damn Crouch and Bagnold; they leave me their mess to clean up. At least if Black is found innocent then it means good PR for me._

* * *

The trial was scheduled for Thursday. Sirius was escorted by Amelia Bones and several Aurors to a Ministry holding cell. On the way, Sirius turned to one of the Aurors; she was very young and looked like she was still a trainee; she had short, spiky, pink hair and there was something about her face that was familiar.

"Um, pardon me, but have I met you before?" he asked her. "You look like someone I know but I can't place who right now."

"I'm Auror Tonks," she replied.

"Tonks. Oh, yeah, you're little Nymphadora."

"Don't call me that! Wait…how did you know?"

"Your mum's my favorite cousin. How is Andromeda doing these days?"

"She's fine." Tonks was finding this whole situation very confusing. Here was a man she had grown up learning to despise, and yet he was talking to her as if they were old buddies having a drink.

"And your dad? How is Ted doing?"

"He's good; he actually took an early retirement a month ago."

"Huh, well, when you see your mum and dad next, tell them I said hello."

"How _did_ you recognize me?"

"Well, I used to babysit you."

"You did?"

"Honestly, was it that long ago that you don't remember 'Uncle Siri'? You used to run around the house knocking things over and laughing as I tried to catch you."

Tonks racked her memories for a moment and she did faintly remember a little of what he was talking about. She was really starting to hope that this guy was innocent like he claimed.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was sitting in his office at Hogwarts, completely oblivious to the recent events; he was still trying to sort things out with Gringotts and the goblins were certainly not going to cut him any slack. Didn't those stupid little buggers know who he was? He was Albus Dumbledore! Everything he did was for the Greater Good!

After all, it wasn't as though Harry would need that money. The boy was destined to sacrifice himself so that, when Voldemort returned, he, Albus Dumbledore, could emerge as the hero once again. Who cares about one insignificant child when the fate of the world was at stake? Of course, Dumbledore knew that seeking help from the Ministry was out of the question; no, having too many people involved in this may eventually lead to some awkward questions and there was the possibility that someone would end up learning about the Horcruxes. That would completely ruin Albus' plans.

He was just helping himself to a sherbet lemon when _The Evening Prophet_ was delivered. He opened the paper and the first thing that caught his attention nearly made him have a heart-attack. _Sirius Black to Receive Trial_. This was not good for Albus Dumbledore's plans.

* * *

Harry Potter was currently sitting alone in his room at the Leaky Cauldron. He already missed Sirius, but he knew that his godfather would be out in no time. He just had to be patient. Just a few more days and Sirius would be a free man. As there were a few days left until the trial, Harry decided he would try and get some work done; and not the homework kind because he'd already finished with that.

No, Harry got out several rolls of parchment, some ink, and his quills and began to write. The first thing he did was write out two lists. The first list read:

**Things I Have Gotten Done:**

**-Make contact with Bayly, Black, and Prewett**

**-Inspect parents' will**

**-Review Potter family holdings**

**-Change elective from Divination to Arithmancy and Ancient Runes**

**-Secured a contract with **_**The Quibbler**_** in order to protect my image**

**-Arranged for Sirius to get a trial**

**-Petition for a restraining order against Snape**

**-Got that article about Sirius published**

**-Acquired the new course materials**

The second one read:

**Things I Need To Do:**

**-Catch Pettigrew**

**-Destroy the Horcruxes**

**-Visit St. Mungo's and get the binding on my magic removed**

**-Get in contact with Robert Preston about private Potions tuition**

**-Find a decent instructor in Occlumency**

**-Find a tutor in magical customs**

**-Investigate the value of the basilisk carcass that's still in the Chamber of Secrets; if it is worth much money, divide it amongst those who were harmed**

**-Inspect the inventories of my other vaults**

**-Visit my family properties**

**-Retrieve the Diadem from the RoR and inspect the other items in the Room of Hidden Things**

**-Give an interview to **_**The Quibbler**_** about the truth of my life**

**-Keep Malfoy from getting Buckbeak in trouble**

**-Work on social life; perhaps I should start up the DA as a club this year**

**-Maybe begin more business ventures in Hogsmeade (the place really could use more attractions)**

**-Begin a research of technomancy; it is time that the magical community incorporates some Muggle technologies (will require some researchers)**

**-Reform Hogwarts educational system, institute anti-bullying and anti-bigotry rules, and perhaps alter the House Point system **

**-Find six wives (no hurry on that one)**

Harry looked at the very last point on his 'to-do' list and nodded. He had no intention of rushing into any sort of relationship; although, Harry suspected that Sirius wouldn't allow him to slack-off in the romance department.

Harry then set his lists aside and took out another piece of parchment.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I've been missing you a lot. What's new and exciting in my life, you may ask? Well, I'm not sure if you know yet, but I accidentally blew up my Aunt Marge. Before you go off on a rant about how irresponsible I was, I would like to make it clear that it was an accident. She was saying things about my mother that made me very much want to strangle her. And, no, I'm not overreacting. I've also recently secured legal representation in order to prevent being misrepresented in the media. Once again, no, I am not being too extreme. People have been making money off of my name and image even though I have no idea who they are. _

_Have you heard about the Sirius Black trial that's taking place this Thursday?_

_Turns out the 'wanted murderer' is really my godfather and is completely innocent. At least when he gets off I won't ever have to go back to the Dursleys ever again. Before you start thinking that I shouldn't assume Sirius Black is innocent just because a magazine stated that he is, I would like to point out to you that I have, in fact, met the man already and have no doubts regarding his innocence._

_By now you are probably wondering how I guessed your reactions to each piece of news. Well, considering you are my best friend I think I have a fairly good idea about how to read your responses to various things. But, I digress._

_A great many things are changing for me, Hermione. I would like to tell you more about it, but I think I've talked enough about myself._

_I would really like to hear more about how __**your**__ summer has been going. How are you? What have you been up to? Have you been having fun? _

_I would also like to take a moment to apologize to you, Hermione. I don't think I've been a very good friend over these past two years. I mean, I haven't even asked you about your life before Hogwarts, at all. I don't really know anything about your family except that both your parents are dentists. I really think I've taken your friendship for granted and humbly ask that you forgive me._

_I also got some very interesting books that you might enjoy reading; I know I certainly did. Now you're probably wondering 'Harry Potter reading? Hell must've frozen over.' Yes, Hermione, I have decided to take a leaf out of your book, as it were, and started paying attention to my studies._

_Speaking of studies, I can't wait to see you in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. I'm sure you'll be the best, like every other class._

_Well, I've got to go,_

_I'm staying at the Leaky Cauldron,_

_Hope to see you soon,_

_Love,_

_Harry James Potter_

Harry smiled as he tied the letter to Hedwig's leg. The Snowy owl gave him an approving look (as though she knew what he was doing), nipped him affectionately on the ear, and set off into the evening sky.

* * *

When the letter reached Hermione, the bushy-haired girl wasn't sure whether to cry happily or laugh outright. It was so typical of Harry that he would apologize for something he hadn't done and then try to make up for it to her with a peace offering of books and his promise to do better in his studies. Hermione had never once thought that Harry took her for granted; though she was shocked that he called her his 'best friend' as she believed that Ron already held that title. She was also taken-aback by Harry's sudden interest to know more about her; though she was very touched by the consideration.

Hermione knew that she hadn't been very forthcoming about her life. She was a secretive person by nature as her childhood had not been a particularly happy one. Oh, her parents loved and cared about her all right, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was that, in primary school, whenever she had tried to open up to any of the other students they had turned around and hurt her; this caused her to avoid talking about herself for fear of giving someone else ammunition to cause her pain. And it wasn't just the kids at her old school; her cousins, Caitlin and Roslyn, were absolutely merciless; both girls had gone out of their way to make Hermione miserable, both with verbal insults and even occasionally resorting to physical injuries (often in the form of cruel pranks).

However, despite her anxiousness about talking about herself, Hermione knew she could trust Harry. Her friend had long since proven himself loyal (well, jumping onto the back of a rampaging troll in an effort to save her would tend to do that).


	6. It's Only a Bloody Parking Offence

He's Not Dead Yet

**There is no Monty Python humor in this chapter; absolutely none. And when I say 'none,' I mean there is a certain amount. More than I'd care to admit.**

**Anyway, this chapter is primarily to investigate reports of cannibalism and necrophilia in…This chapter is primarily about Sirius' trial and its aftermath.**

**I do not own either Harry Potter or the Monty Python Flying Circus.**

It's Only a Bloody Parking Offence

As it turned out, the case of Sirius Black had garnered quite a lot of attention; which was only natural, of course. When Harry headed downstairs to the bar, he noticed that it was swarming with reporters and journalists. Under the protection of his Invisibility Cloak, Harry was able to slip out unnoticed to where Red was waiting.

"Hey, Harry," she said with a smile, "Ready to turn some heads?"

"Sure am. Got our seat tickets?"

"VIP section."

"And your dad's defending Sirius?"

"Yep, he's got everything ready and is talking with Sirius right now."

"Right, well, let's be off."

They loaded into Red's dark green Chevrolet and set off to the Ministry; Harry asked why Red didn't just Apparate there and she replied that she didn't have a license; besides, she was claustrophobic and Apparition had always caused her to panic. Soon enough they parked and headed straight over to where the run-down old phone booth stood; they entered the telephone booth and dialed M-A-G-I-C. Once the lift had descended, and they had donned their little silver pins, the two made their way over to the check-in counter and had their wands registered.

"Here for the Sirius Black trial?" the little wizard inquired. They nodded. "Courtroom ten."

Harry and Red made their way down to the courtroom and were shown into the VIP stands. Naturally, Harry's presence drew a bit of attention; luckily, Red was able to fight off any reporters by informing them that it was illegal to solicit comments from a minor without the express permission of his legal guardian. Of course, Dumbledore was also surprised when he saw Harry in the courtroom; however, he clearly couldn't speak with the boy as the trial was about to begin.

"Attention, attention, everyone," the Minister declared. "I call this court to order. Let it be written that this trial of the magical community of Great Britain versus Sirius Orion Black is called to order on this Monday the 16th of August 1993. Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic, presiding. Bring in the defendant."

Sirius was led into the courtroom and placed into the chair that magically chained him in. Instead of looking nervous, Sirius just sat there calmly and smiled up at those assembled.

"About time I got this trial," he said.

"Does the accused have someone to speak in his defense?" Fudge asked.

"I do, Minister. Mr. Hamilton Bayly of Bayly, Black, and Prewett will be defending me."

Mr. Bayly was shown in and the trial began.

"Minister Fudge, Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot, the Right Honorable Madam Bones, Chief Warlock Dumbledore," he greeted. "Today is a momentous occasion, as we fully intend to see the correction of a dreadful miscarriage of justice against the soon-to-be Lord, Sirius Orion Black. His title was inherited upon the death of his grandfather Arcturus, a few years ago." There were some mutterings amongst the Wizengamot at the revelation of Sirius being a Lord.

"Hem-hem!" came an unwanted interruption from a familiar toad-like figure in pink. "I beg your pardon, Mister Bayly, but I think you are mistaken. It is well-known that Sirius Black was disowned from his family. Therefore, the title of lordship to the Black family is to be passed to the closest male descendant, which would be the young heir of the Malfoy family."

"Correction, Madam Undersecretary," Mr. Bayly retorted sharply. "My client was never officially disowned, though his mother, the late Walburga Black, attempted to convince Lord Arcturus Black to do so. Therefore, my client is the undisputed heir to the Black lordship."

Umbridge looked very put-out. Harry figured that she wasn't too thrilled about being put in her place by a Squib such as Mr. Bayly.

"Duly noted," the Minister said. "Will the prosecution please step forward?"

There was a moment of silence.

"Where is Auror Scrimgeour?" Amelia asked with a sigh of frustration.

Suddenly, the aforementioned Auror came hurrying into the room.

"So sorry I'm late, I couldn't find the kosher Floo exit," he said. "Don't bother to recap, Madam Bones, I'll pick it up as we go along."

"Right," Amelia said with a roll of her eyes.

"Will the prosecution please read the charge?" Fudge continued.

"Is a charge strictly necessary, Minister?" Scrimgeour asked.

"The Press is here," the Minister hissed.

"Oh! Oh, sorry. You are Sirius Orion Black?"

"Yes," Sirius replied.

"You are hereby charged 1) that you served as a member of an illegal organization known as the Death Eaters, 2) that you willfully betrayed the location of James and Lily Potter whilst serving as their Secret-Keeper, 3) that you committed the murder of Peter Edmund Pettigrew, and 4) that you murdered twelve unidentified Muggle bystanders. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty on all counts."

There were more disconcerted mutterings.

"Duly noted."

"Madam Bones, if I may?" Mr. Bayly proceeded.

"The court recognizes Hamilton Bayly speaking on behalf of Sirius Black," Amelia said.

"Certain events have led to evidence that proves my client is innocent of at least the charge for accessory to the murders of James and Lily Potter."

"May we see this evidence?"

"Certainly, ma'am. Call Exhibit Q!"

"Q?"

Mr. Bayly looked startled for a moment.

"Sorry, did I say Q? I meant A. Call Exhibit A!"

It was Josiah Prewett who entered with the aged parchment.

"Does the court recognize this?" Mr. Bayly pressed. "It is the joint will of James and Lily Potter. In addition to revealing that it was not Mr. Black who was the Secret-Keeper, it also sheds a great deal of light onto the guardianship of one Harry James Potter."

Dumbledore decided that it was time to intervene.

"I must protest!" he said. "That will was sealed and as young Mr. Potter's Magical Guardian I cannot allow the contents of that document to be read."

"You are forgetting, Chief Warlock, that the contents of a will may be used as evidence in a trial. Also, it should be noted, an heir of a Most Ancient and Most Noble House may access the contents of his or her parents' will if that person is over the age of eleven. Furthermore, this will also indicates that you have no grounds to claim guardianship for young Mr. Potter. I request the right to read this document. As Mr. Potter is here today, I ask his consent."

"Granted," said Harry from the gallery.

The court listened, enraptured, as the Potter will was read. Several of those present were shocked to discover that they had been considered as suitable guardians for Harry. Albus Dumbledore was beginning to feel uneasy.

"There's still the charge of murder regarding Pettigrew and the twelve Muggles," Lord Ogden pointed out. "Black did give an explanation in _The Quibbler_, but I feel we should have it stated in the record exactly what happened."

"The prosecution would like to call in the Auror responsible for apprehending Mr. Black as a witness to the murders," Scrimgeour declared. "Call former Auror Pan-Am."

The former Auror dashed into the room and began to hit anyone he could reach with a truncheon, including Sirius and the Aurors guarding him. The Aurors managed to get the clearly mental man into the witness box.

"There will be plenty of time for that, later on," Scrimgeour said. "Former Auror Pan-Am, do you recognize the defendant?"

"No, never seen 'im before in me life!" He then looked over at Scrimgeour who was trying to nod discretely. "Oh, sorry, yes."

"Former Auror Pan-Am, could you tell the court, in your own words, what happened?"

"Oh, yes! I was proceeding in a northerly direction up Alitalia Street, when I saw the deceased…standing at an upstairs window, baring 'er bosom at the general public. She then took off her…" Scrimgeour was now frantically shaking his head. "Wait a tick! Wrong story. Oh, yes! There were three Veelas in a railway compartment! And the ticket in…" Once again Scrimgeour shook his head. "No?! Anyway, I clearly saw the deceased…"

"The defendant," Amelia corrected.

"Defendant! Sorry. I clearly saw the defendant…doing whatever he's accused of…uh, red-handed! When kicked, uh, cautioned, he said…" He pulled out a small notebook and began to read. "'It's a fair…cop, I done it all. Right. No…doubt about…that.' Then, bound as he was to the chair, he assaulted myself and three other Aurors, while bouncin' around the cell. The end!"

"Thank you, Mr. Pan-Am, you are dismissed," Amelia said.

"Thank you, Madam."

As he was led out, he flailed wildly in his attempt to hit the Aurors escorting him. Scrimgeour was looking uncomfortable as his only witness obviously lacked credence.

"I think we can safely rule out Mr. Pan-Am's testimony," Fudge said.

"Mr. Black," Amelia inquired, "do you have any objection to being questioned under Veritaserum?"

"None," he answered.

Sirius was quickly administered with three drops of the truth potion.

"What is your name?" Amelia asked.

"Sirius Orion Black."

"Were you ever involved with the Death Eaters?"

"No, I would rather have died."

"What happened on the day of November 1st 1981?"

Sirius then related exactly what he stated in the article. By the time everything was wrapped up, the courtroom was nearly in an uproar. People were calling for blood for the incarceration of an innocent man. With a smile of satisfaction, Fudge announced that Bartemius Crouch Sr. and ex-Minister Millicent Bagnold would be tried for their actions. Before the trial could be concluded, one of the Lords stood up.

"Before we conclude, I would like to bring up a critical point that we are at risk of overlooking."

"The court recognizes Lord Richard Acton," Fudge announced.

In the gallery, Red whispered to Harry that Acton was a respectable and trustworthy man; what he was about to say would probably be for their benefit.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Acton said, "while I admit that Crouch and Bagnold should be brought in to face the consequences of their negligence, there is another party that should be brought forward for his involvement in the incident in question."

"And who might this person be?" Dumbledore asked.

Acton smirked.

"Why, none other than our Chief Warlock."

There was some outraged spluttering from the Dumbledore supporters that was quickly silenced.

"Lord Acton," Amelia said, "could you explain?"

"Simple, Madam Bones," Acton continued. "Chief Warlock, is it not your responsibility to see to it that every person brought in by the Aurors receives a trial?"

"Well, I…" Dumbledore started.

"And, was it not explicitly mentioned in the Potter will, to which you were a witness, that it was Pettigrew, not Black, who was the Secret-Keeper?"

"Well, yes, but…"

"If that is the case, why did you not see to it that Mr. Black received this trial twelve years ago?"

"It was a hectic time for all of us!" Dumbledore shouted. "To say the least of all the work I had to do with my status as Headmaster of Hogwarts, Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, as well as being Chief Warlock; I am up to my ears in work."

"Perhaps, then, it would be wise for you to relinquish some of those titles? I never did think it a good idea that one man should wield so much power. Even if he has good intentions, it does not change the fact that one individual is not capable of dealing with so much responsibility. Also, I would like to point out that Albus Dumbledore has failed to properly execute the Potter will. As the witness, he should have seen to it that the benefactors received their due, as well as seen to it that the Potter Heir was placed with one of the designated guardians; which I do not believe has happened."

"Mr. Potter," Amelia Bones turned to the stand, "could you please come forward?"

Harry stood up and moved to address those assembled.

"Yes, Madam Bones?" he asked.

"Do you reside with any of the approved guardians on the list mentioned in your parents' will?"

"No, ma'am."

"Who is it that you do reside with?"

"My mother's sister and her family."

"How is it that you came to be there?"

"The Headmaster-excuse me-the Chief Warlock, placed me on the doorstep of their house the day after my parents were killed."

"What is your opinion of your relatives as care-givers?"

"Well, ma'am, I would prefer if my statements be given in private and that there be an examination of my medical records. All the evidence should indicate what kind of 'care-givers' the Dursleys are."

The bitterness in his tone had many people look about uncertainly.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter, we shall ask for your statements later," Amelia dismissed him back to his seat. "I move that, in light of the current evidence, Albus Dumbledore needs to decide which obligation is most important to him as he should not have all the ones that he currently possesses."

"Amelia," Dumbledore protested, "I really don't think this is-"

"While we are in court, you are to refer to me as 'Madam Bones,'" she snapped.

"Very well, Madam Bones; is this really necessary?"

"Yes, it is. There will be a full enquiry about this on Saturday. There will also be an investigation into the matter of your usurpation of the status of Magical Guardian for Harry James Potter and what exactly your actions caused.

"As for the case of Sirius Orion Black," she continued, "All those in favor of clearing the accused of all charges?"

Just about everyone raised their illuminated wands in support. The Death Eaters chose not to give a response in order to save face. With that decision made, Fudge spoke up.

"Sirius Orion Black, you have been found not-guilty and are cleared of all charges. We would also like to offer restitution. As you were never actually dismissed from the Aurors, we grant you all the wages you are owed as if you were working 24/7 for twelve years. Furthermore, in light of the contents of the Potter will, you are named as the legal guardian for Harry James Potter. You may claim this guardianship after being checked by a Mind-Healer at St. Mungo's to deal with the after-effects of your illegal stay in Azkaban, at no cost to you."

"Thank you, Minister," Sirius said. "I would also like to request that the fine for an illegal Animagus be taken from my reimbursement and to go through the process of registering with the Ministry." Many people nodded approvingly at Sirius' statement. "I would also like to go on record offering my thanks to the present Ministry administration for overseeing that justice was done today."

Fudge seemed to puff up at the good publicity this would garner for him. Red and Harry exchanged secret smiles; everything was going just as planned. Fudge would eat up the praise and would certainly try to get on good terms with the newly-acquitted Lord Black.

The court being dismissed, Harry decided to make a show of approaching Sirius who pulled him into a hug and tearfully declared how sorry he was for letting him down by chasing after Pettigrew. The action caused quite a stir with the Press, but Red stepped in and snapped at all the reporters that only one media outlet had the paid rights to Mr. Potter's name and image and that there would be a lawsuit for anyone who printed anything without Mr. Potter's consent. Of course, that declaration didn't stop the 'aw's that came from the elderly women present who saw the joyous reunion of a young man and his godfather. Before Sirius and Harry left, they were accosted by Lord Acton who requested that Sirius come round for tea some time. Naturally, Sirius said he would be happy to.

* * *

The following day, Harry and Sirius were escorted to St. Mungo's Hospital, courtesy of Red and her Chevrolet. Sirius needed to go on a potions regimen to restore his health; he was also instructed to see a Mind-Healer at least once a week to deal with the trauma of twelve years in Azkaban. Seeing as they were there anyway, Harry was taken for a routine check-up. Healer Mondegreen, who met with Harry, was shocked to discover the boy's condition. Not only had Harry not received standard vaccinations, he also had physical evidence of abuse, including malnourishment and scars; there also seemed to be a binding on his magic that needed to be immediately removed as well as various illegal enchantments such as a ward against mail from anyone other than several persons. Needless to say, those medical records soon found their way into the hands of Amelia Bones.

* * *

In a magazine called _The Quibbler_, a new article was published. Beneath a photograph of a rather nervous-looking Albus Dumbledore was a heading that read:

_Dumbledore: Demented or Dark?_

_By Xenophilius Lovegood_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore is known throughout the magical community for his many achievements; the most famous of which was his defeat of the Dark wizard Gellert Grindelwald in 1945. Dumbledore has had a sterling history as a professor (and later Headmaster) at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards. _

_However, could the power that this great man possesses have finally gone to his head?_

_No witch or wizard in the history of magical Britain has ever had as much power or influence as Mr. Dumbledore. This leaves one to wonder if this is a good thing or a bad thing._

_At the recent trial of Sirius Orion Black, who was proven to have been innocent all along, it was indicated that Dumbledore was involved in the illegal incarceration twelve years ago. Suspicions were aroused when the Potter will was presented as evidence; the will mentioned specifically that it was Peter Pettigrew who was the Secret-Keeper and not Black. What then followed was a list of families who were deemed suitable guardians for the Potters' infant son, Harry James Potter. The will was witnessed by none other than Albus Dumbledore._

_If Albus Dumbledore knew that Black was innocent, why didn't he get him a trial?_

_Upon being questioned, Dumbledore asserted that "it was a hectic time" and that he was "too busy." _

_Something seems fishy here._

_The Potter will also states, quite forcefully, that Harry Potter was to never be placed with his mother's Muggle relatives._

_So, what happened?_

_Dumbledore, who witnessed and sealed the will, had himself declared as young Harry's Magical Guardian and then dumped the savior of the wizarding world on the doorstep of his Muggle relatives' house with nothing more than a letter._

_This gross negligence certainly didn't fly with the Ministry when it came out at the trial. Amelia Bones, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, called for an enquiry that would see Albus Dumbledore choose which of his responsibilities was most important to him as having the position as Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, and Headmaster of Hogwarts is too much for one man to handle._

_Then, of course, there is what else was revealed at the enquiry regarding Albus Dumbledore's guardianship of Harry Potter. _

_Not only had Dumbledore not followed through with the instructions in the Potter will, he also committed an act of child endangerment. The reason Harry Potter was never to go to his Muggle relatives was because Lily Potter (nee Evans) was in dispute with her sister Petunia because of the latter's hatred of magic. Petunia Dursley (nee Evans) had made it perfectly clear what she thinks about the magical world, and that opinion was inflicted on an innocent child for twelve years._

_At the enquiry, a record of Harry Potter's medical files was presented. It turns out there was only one documented visit by Mr. Potter to St. Mungo's for a standard check-up since he was placed with his relatives; this one visit took place the day after the trial of Sirius Black when young Harry had decided to escort his godfather to the hospital to receive treatment for his time in Azkaban. While there, young Mr. Potter decided to have his own health checked and the finds were startling. Healer Mondegreen, who gave Mr. Potter his check-up, was released from his Healer's Oath and permitted to give a statement regarding his patient._

"_I never saw it coming," said Mondegreen. "The boy had all the signs of abuse. There were small signs, such as malnourishment, and larger, direr evidence. From what I saw, Mr. Potter had various bones that had been broken and then healed incorrectly; the age of the injuries pre-dates Mr. Potter's eighth birthday. It was also apparent that Mr. Potter's nose has been broken numerous times over a seven year time period. Then there were the scars; and I don't mean the tell-tale one on his forehead. From what I could see, someone had beaten the lad with a belt…regularly. The fact that Mr. Potter wears glasses is not owed to a hereditary trait as one would believe; it seems that his eyesight was damaged through spending excessive periods of time in a small, dark space; this was followed by incorrectly-prescribed glasses that only damaged his vision further."_

_But this wasn't all. What Healer Mondegreen then discovered is truly shocking._

"_There was a powerful set of binding on his magical core. We all know that some magical parents place binding on their children to keep down their accidental magic; however, this went far beyond the norm. This binding limited Mr. Potter's magical power levels by ninety-five percent. The fact that Mr. Potter should have little more power than a Squib and yet works at an average power level is nothing short of startling. Once I unbound the lad's core, I discovered something truly fascinating. It seems our dear Mr. Potter is a Metamorphmagus."_

_**(For those who do not know what a Metamorphmagus is, see page 20)**_

"_There were also a series of illegal spells on Mr. Potter; including a tracking charm, a health-monitoring charm, and an anti-mail ward. There was also a type of ward I couldn't identify that had an origin in Blood Magic."_

_If the nature of these illegal charms and wards is any indication, it is likely that Albus Dumbledore was the one to place them; this also means that he knew what was happening to Mr. Potter._

_This leaves us with a question._

_Is Dumbledore going senile or turning Dark?_

_**For information about Albus Dumbledore, see page 40**_

_**For a personal interview with Harry Potter about his life, see page 17**_

_**For details about the trial of Sirius Black, see page 12**_

Mr. Lovegood soon found himself in need of buying a new printing press from how his magazine was selling these days. Entering into that deal with Harry Potter was possibly the best business decision Xenophilius had ever made.

* * *

**Author's Note****: I would like to apologize for not writing the enquiry regarding Dumbledore or the interview Harry gave to **_**The Quibbler**_**; I was just too lazy to do that and I'm sure you can gather enough of an idea from the article above.**

**I'm still not sure where I'm going with Draco at the moment; I'm not going to redeem him, but I'm not sure about destroying him completely.**

**I **_**do**_** know how I'm going to have Harry finish off old Voldy. I'm not going to tell you, though, because it's a surprise.**

**Regarding the Horcruxes; I fully intend to deal with them in a future chapter (the Christmas one). Harry is going to stop by Gringotts to drop off the locket and diadem and will bring up the matter with Ragnok.**


	7. That Tomato's Just Ejected Itself!

He's Not Dead Yet

**I don't own Harry Potter or the Philosopher's Song. (No, that's not a typo)**

That Tomato's Just Ejected Itself!

In the end, Albus Dumbledore decided that his role as Headmaster of Hogwarts took primary importance; although, he was beginning to feel as though even that position would soon be snatched from him (at least, that was what he interpreted from the looks that Amelia Bones kept shooting him). A very strict, middle-aged man named Arthur Aldridge was appointed as the new Chief Warlock, and a cheerful lady named Mrs. G. Crump was appointed the Supreme Mugwump (the first woman to ever hold the title).

Albus Dumbledore soon found himself back in his Hogwarts office puzzling about how things had gone so awry and being shouted at by three of his four Heads of House about what he was thinking. Snape was…Snape, and merely made snide comments about Harry Potter's arrogance that drove the Head of Gryffindor through the roof and initiated her Mother Lioness mode. Lately, Minerva McGonagall had begun to question her loyalty to 'the great Albus Dumbledore' and his decisions; what she figured out was that blindly following Albus had nearly gotten some of her students killed.

"The Stone cannot possibly be stolen, Minerva," McGonagall repeated the memory to herself once she was in the confines of her private rooms. "If anyone mentions it, just ignore it." She shook her head. "That stupid, stupid man." She turned to the bottle of Scotch on her desk. "I've let my students down for the last time. This year, I'm going to keep my eyes and ears open."

* * *

Meanwhile beneath the floors of Gringotts, Director Ragnok was meeting with his secretary, Sharptooth.

"Has Mr. Dumbledore returned those Potter heirlooms and the stolen money yet?" Ragnok asked.

"Mr. Dumbledore says that he is not currently in the position to return the 'borrowed' funds," Sharptooth replied with contempt. "He also insists that he does not have the heirlooms."

Ragnok glared.

"If there's one thing I hate as much as a thief, it's a liar," he growled.

"When shall we make our move, sir?"

"Not yet. Soon though. We shall make our stand when the old fool doesn't expect us." Ragnok was silent for a minute. "It is imperative that we retrieve those Potter heirlooms. Among them was Mr. Potter's family grimoire. It's lucky that that book will only open for a Potter; otherwise, the old fool would have access to magic that, in the wrong hands, could destroy the world as we know it."

Both goblins shuddered.

"As for the money," Ragnok continued, "Inform Mr. Dumbledore that if he refuses to pay up, we will simply seize his personal vault and all its contents."

"What about Molly Weasley?" Sharptooth inquired. "She has been illegally receiving money from Mr. Potter's vault through Albus Dumbledore."

"Mr. Potter informed me that he wishes to deal with the Weasleys on his own terms." There was another pause.

"When should we expect Mr. Potter to take up his role as Lord Potter? To say the least of his other titles."

"Mr. Potter informed me of that as well. He says he would like to finish this year before taking up the mantle of Lord. He said he wanted one _normal_ year before he had to do anything too serious. I think we can respect that, don't you?"

"Yes, sir." Sharptooth turned to leave, then stopped. "Sir? Do you really believe Mr. Potter is the one mentioned in the ancient texts? The one destined to bring peace to magical Britain?"

"If there is ever going to be a Chosen One, Mr. Potter is it."

* * *

Hermione's response to Harry's letter arrived not long after.

_Dear Harry,_ it read,

_Well, you certainly seem to have been keeping busy. I am happy that you found out about your godfather, Harry. I could tell that you don't care much for those relatives of yours, so, congratulations. You were right, I was definitely surprised by your ability to predict how I would react to your news (but don't think you've gotten out of a telling-off for blowing up your aunt)._

_My summer has actually been very splendid. My parents and I have just spent a week in Paris; we are actually coming back to England in a few days so I will be more than happy to tell you about what my holiday was like._

_Harry James Potter, don't you dare think that you are a bad friend. You are the first friend I ever had and I am honored that you consider me to be your best friend; although, I always thought that Ron was your best friend. _

_I am delighted that you have decided to make more effort with your studies; you are a very smart person and it bothers me that you haven't tried harder to reach your full potential. I think I might just take you up on your offering of books; but not because I feel you need to make amends for anything (it's simply because I love books, and you know it). _

_So you want to know a bit more about me? Well…_

Hermione's letter then progressed into an assortment of details about herself; things like her favorite color or foods, and things of that nature. She didn't give away too much about her personal life or childhood experiences as she was still rather hesitant to talk about that.

* * *

About a week after Sirius' trial, Hermione and Ron accosted Harry outside Florean Fortescue's. Harry had to fight the sudden urge to attack Ron; if not for what he was going to do, then certainly for being a double-crossing bastard in what he'd already done. Unlike what happened last time, when Harry saw Hermione, he pulled her into a hug that caught her slightly off-guard.

"It's good to see you," he said.

"Missed you, too," said Hermione. "But don't think I've let you off for blowing up your aunt."

"Aww," Harry mock-whined, "But, Hermione…"

Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled. Ron then decided to butt-in.

"I'd hate to see what the Ministry'd do to _me_ if I ever blew up my aunt," Ron said. "Mind you, they'd have to dig me up first, because Mum would've killed me. Well, anyway, Harry," Ron slung his arm around Harry's shoulder and Harry grit his teeth in annoyance, "We're all staying at the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione's there, too. So, you can come with us to King's Cross tomorrow."

"Oh, uh," Harry replied, trying to force back the biting comment on the tip of his tongue. "I would, Ron, but I've already made other plans."

"What?" Ron said in a shocked voice.

"Well, you know, my godfather, Sirius Black, was just acquitted and he promised to take me there tomorrow."

"Oh, yeah," Ron said, "I heard about Black. Can't believe the git wormed his way out of Azkaban. I bet he did what Malfoy did and bribed everyone."

Harry was feeling an immense desire to punch Ron in the face.

"Honestly, Ronald," Hermione snapped, "didn't you _read_ the paper? Black was tried under Veritaserum and it was _proven_ that he was innocent. Besides, Harry _just_ said that Sirius Black is his godfather. And I mentioned, over and over, that Harry had already assured me he believed in his innocence."

Ron just muttered something about Hermione being 'mental.'

"Besides, Ron," Harry added, a note of annoyance in his voice, "I was at the trial myself. I saw everything that happened."

Ron rolled his eyes and had an expression on his face as if he were trying to explain something simple to a very stupid child. Harry's desire to punch Ron was only growing by the minute.

The conversation of the last timeline followed but with some differences; Hermione was very pleased that Harry decided to take Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, but Ron complained loudly that Harry wasn't going to be with him in Divination.

"I just felt that Divination was a bit dodgy. After all, I seem to remember _someone_ saying in first year that McGonagall told her about how woolly a subject it is."

Hermione gave Harry a playful whack on the arm. The conversation then turned to Hermione's interest in buying a pet. Harry once again had to restrain himself, this time from grabbing Pettigrew (who was looking even paler and thinner than in the last timeline; probably because Sirius was a free man and had informed the Aurors about him being an Animagus); but Harry had a plan and Sirius knew where to be when they acted. After they went off to Magical Menagerie, where Hermione purchased Crookshanks, the three headed back towards the Leaky Cauldron.

"You bought that monster?" Ron said in a disgusted tone.

"He's gorgeous, isn't he?" Hermione replied.

"Hermione, that thing nearly scalped me!" said Ron.

"He didn't mean to, did you, Crookshanks?" said Hermione.

It began to dawn on Harry that Crookshanks might have known that it wasn't just Scabbers who was untrustworthy. From what he remembered, the cat never really did like Ron.

"And what about Scabbers?" said Ron, pointing at the lump in his chest pocket. "He needs rest and relaxation! How's he going to get it with that thing around?"

"That reminds me, you forgot your rat tonic," said Hermione, slapping the small red bottle into Ron's hand. "And stop worrying. Crookshanks will be sleeping in my dormitory and Scabbers in yours, what's the problem? Poor Crookshanks, that witch said he'd been in there for ages; no one wanted him."

"Wonder why," said Ron sarcastically.

"Ron, there's no need to be rude," Harry said. "As far as I know, Hermione's decisions have tended to be good ones. Well, with the exception of believing those stupid Lockhart books; but, other than that, I feel she has always been very sensible."

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione said. Harry looked Hermione in the eyes for a moment and he saw that his words really had meant a great deal to her.

Ron, on the other hand, was looking thoroughly miffed. For one of the first times ever in their friendship, Harry had taken Hermione's side over his.

They entered the Leaky Cauldron and Harry was immediately greeted by the other Weasleys.

"Harry, how nice to see you," Percy Weasley greeted him.

"Hello, Percy," Harry replied politely as he shook the older boy's hand. "Congratulations on making Head Boy, by the way."

"Thank you, Harry."

"Harry!" Fred exclaimed, pushing Percy out of the way. "Simply splendid to see you, old boy-"

"Marvelous," George added, "absolutely spiffing!"

"That's enough, now," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Mum!" said Fred, as though he'd only just spotted her and seizing her hand, too. "How really corking to see you-"

"I said, that's enough," said Mrs. Weasley. "Hello, Harry, dear. I suppose you've heard our exciting news?" She pointed to the brand-new silver badge on Percy's chest. "Second Head Boy in the family!" she said, swelling with pride.

"And last," Fred muttered under his breath.

"I don't doubt that," said Mrs. Weasley, frowning suddenly. "I notice they haven't made you two prefects."

"What do we want to be prefects for?" said George, looking revolted at the very idea. "It'd take all the fun out of life."

"You know, my dad was a Head Boy," Harry said, "and from what I've heard he still knew how to have fun."

"Really?" Fred inquired.

"Yeah, he and his three friends were quite notorious pranksters, and one them was a prefect."

"You're joking?" George said.

"They had some sort of name for their group. What was it? Oh yeah, the 'Marauders' I believe they called themselves."

Fred and George exchanged looks of shock and awe.

"They even had their own nicknames," Harry continued, "I seem to recall that my dad was called 'Prongs.'"

Fred and George then began to mock-bow to Harry.

"We are not worthy, oh great son of Prongs," they said, "Heir of the Marauders, the purveyors of mischief, our great mentors."

People were exchanging confused glances at that point.

"You know," Harry whispered to the twins, "I might just be able to arrange it so that you guys can meet Padfoot and Moony."

"You'd really do that-"

"For us, Harrikins?"

"Of course; you guys are my friends." Harry knew that Fred and George would probably sell their souls to him for the chance to meet at least one of the Marauders. It was only natural that the Marauder's Map soon found its way into Harry's possession.

Dinner was very pleasant, just like the last time; although, this time, Harry was able to figure out there was something going on when Mrs. Weasley had him sit next to Ginny and Hermione next to Ron.

_Could the old bint be more obvious?_ Harry thought contemptuously.

"So, Harry," Arthur said in a pleasant manner, "how's your summer been, so far?"

"It got a lot better after I left the Dursleys," he replied. "I decided to address some problems with my life and got legal representation from the magical law firm of Bayly, Black, and Prewett."

"Oh, Harry dear," Mrs. Weasley spoke up, "I don't see why a boy your age needs to be getting involved in legal nonsense like that."

"Well, Josiah Prewett has been very helpful in my financial matters, Mrs. Weasley." Harry noticed that Mrs. Weasley flinched when he mentioned the name of her Squib cousin.

"Hey, Mum," Fred added, "isn't Josiah Prewett your cousin?"

"Well, yes," she admitted grudgingly. "But we don't really talk that much. He is a very bitter man who was jealous because he and his parents were Squibs."

"Mr. Prewett didn't seem very bitter, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said. "He's perfectly happy working as an accountant at the firm. He also introduced me to his son, Elijah, who has actually shown some magical potential and may get a Hogwarts letter in a few years."

"Hey, maybe _we_ could meet him," George suggested.

"It would be a nice chance to learn about the legal world as well as get to know more of our family," Percy added.

"Boys," Mrs. Weasley said anxiously, "don't get your hopes up. Josiah and I haven't spoken in years and I doubt that is likely to change."

The boys looked rather disappointed, but Harry whispered to George that he would see what he could do to arrange a meeting. As dinner progressed, Harry couldn't help but notice the subtle glances that Mrs. Weasley kept shooting at him and Ginny; it was really starting to grate on his nerves. Harry really hoped Sirius would hurry up.

Sure enough, Sirius appeared in the stairwell and immediately spotted Pettigrew at the table.

"There he is!" Sirius shouted and pointed towards the rat.

Peter, realizing the jig was up, wriggled free of Ron's hand and began to scurry away as fast as he could

"Stop him! Don't let him escape!"

It turned out that Hermione's decision to purchase Crookshanks was indeed a good one. The ginger-haired part-kneazle darted after the fleeing rat and snatched him by the tail right before he could escape through a hole in the wall. Throughout all of this, Ron had been vehemently shouting about why a crazy man was trying to kill Scabbers. Crookshanks carried the frantically struggling rodent over to Sirius who immediately performed the spell that forces Animagi to reveal themselves. Sure enough, there was the balding little man who had betrayed so many people standing before the patrons of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Who the bloody hell is that?!" Arthur shouted, realizing now that a strange man had been living in his home for twelve years.

"A sniveling, little, rat-faced git," Sirius replied, "Also known as Peter Pettigrew."

"Someone call the Aurors!" Molly shrieked.

About ten minutes later, Peter was being hauled off to a Ministry holding-cell. Once everyone had calmed down, Harry turned to the Weasleys and said:

"By the way, this is my godfather, Sirius Black; also known as Padfoot."

* * *

The following morning saw everyone off to Kings Cross. Sirius had decided to escort Harry to the station himself; something Harry was grateful for as the Weasleys were notorious for their inability to get there on time. Harry had invited Hermione to come with him and Sirius, so as to avoid being late; something which she readily agreed to.

At the train station, Harry headed towards the compartment where he remembered Remus Lupin would be. Harry had done some thinking about his relationship with Remus in the other timeline and it led to Harry coming up with a number of questions. Questions he was most eager to have answered. He wanted, most of all, to know why Remus hadn't tried to seek him out if he was supposed to be such a good friend of his parents. Harry didn't know that his questions would be answered without even having to ask them.

Remus was, understandably, rather emotional during his reunion with Sirius. He apologized profusely for ever believing Sirius was capable of betraying James and Lily. Sirius responded with his own apology for suspecting Remus.

"Harry," Sirius said, "This is Remus Lupin, an old friend of mine and your parents'."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Lupin," Harry said.

"It's nice to finally see you again, Harry," Remus said with a rather sad and guilty expression. "I would like to apologize to you as well." He gave a slight sigh. "I apologize for never seeking you out years ago. Your parents were two of my best friends and yet I let down their only son." Remus paused. "Once I had heard of your parents' deaths, I had, in fact, gone to Professor Dumbledore and asked about you. He had told me that you were safe and that he had placed you with a decent family." Remus' eyes darkened. "I pressed that, as a friend of your parents, I should be the one to raise you. But Dumbledore said that it was not what James and Lily had stated in their will. Not long after that, a certain bill was passed by the Wizengamot that made it impossible for…ehem, for someone like me to look after you.

"After that, I went back to Dumbledore and asked where he had sent you. I wanted to at least be able to see for myself that you were all right." Remus gave a dark chuckle. "The old man said that there was no need for it. He then brought up, very subtly, the fact that I owed him a great deal and I dropped the issue. I tried for several years to find out where it was that you lived; all that I managed to gather, though, was that you were living with Muggles. Had I known…" He trailed off for a moment then shook his head sadly. "I tried sending you numerous letters, but the owl always returned almost immediately after. Once I read that article in _The Quibbler_ about the anti-mail wards, I knew that must have been the reason." He looked Harry straight in the eyes and the teenager could see years of regrets in them. "I am truly sorry how much I failed you, Harry. Do you think you could ever forgive me?"

Harry gave Remus a warm smile.

"I think I can, Moony," Harry said.

Seeing as there was no further need for the dementors to hang around the school, the incident on the train never happened. Fred and George also got to meet yet another of their heroes and spent just as much time hounding Remus as they had done to Sirius the night before. As the train got moving, Harry decided to get up and go look for Luna and ask her to join them.

"Where are you going, Harry?" Ron asked

"Going to find someone I met in Diagon Alley," he replied.

Ron gave him a curious glance, which he ignored. It didn't take Harry long to find Luna; she was sitting by herself and was reading a copy of _The Quibbler_ upside-down. Harry slid open the door of the compartment and stepped inside.

"Hey, Luna," he said. "How are you?"

"Oh, hello, Harry," she replied dreamily. "I'm fine."

"Why are you sitting by yourself?"

"Oh, it's no problem but not a lot of people want to hang around me."

"Well, if you want, you're more than welcome to come and sit in my compartment with my other friends."

"Alright, then." She sounded a bit more cheerful than before. "Is it true you're friends with Ronald Weasley?"

"Um, sort of."

"You should be careful around him; he has a nasty case of wrackspurts."

"I noticed."

"Ronald and Ginevra have both had wrackspurts for a long time."

"Oh, you know Ron and Ginny already?"

"Yes, I live just over the hill from them. Ronald nicknamed me 'Looney Lovegood' when we were little."

"That's not very nice. Don't worry, Luna; if he calls you that, I'll tell him off."

"Thank you, Harry."

Unbeknownst to Harry, the young blonde girl had started to blush at his promise. No one but her daddy had ever defended her before.

Harry led her to the compartment; Fred and George had since left and the compartment now had only Ron, Hermione, and Lupin. When Ron saw who was with Harry, he cringed.

"Harry," Ron began to whisper loudly to Harry; probably with the intention of having everyone else hear, "what are you doing with Looney Lovegood?"

"Her name's Luna and she's my friend, Ron," Harry hissed. "Don't you dare make fun of her."

After a little while, Remus excused himself to go speak with the driver.

Hermione decided to make Luna feel welcome, despite being a little off-put by the younger girl's eccentric personality. Ron refused to stop scowling, and whenever he spoke he had an attitude that plainly indicated he didn't want her around. Eventually, the group was joined by Neville, whom Harry gladly welcomed.

"Oh, Harry," Neville said, "I really owe you a huge thank you for telling me about wands. When I explained to Gran what you told me about how wands are supposed to choose the wizard, she took me to Ollivander's to check. And now…" He proudly held up his new wand. "Cherry, thirteen inches, with unicorn hair core."

"If you don't mind my asking, why didn't you already have your own wand, Neville?" Hermione asked.

Neville began to blush a bit.

"I-I was using my dad's wand. Gran made me use it the past two years because she thought that if it was good enough for my dad that it would be good enough for me."

"Why were you using your dad's wand, won't he need it?" Ron asked tactlessly.

"Ron," Harry snapped as he gave the red-head a slight whack upside the head. "That's a personal question and he might not want to answer it."

"Bloody hell, Harry, when did you turn into Hermione?"

Neville gave Harry a grateful look and Hermione glared at Ron.

"Congratulations, Neville," Harry said. "Knowing that you could do magic with a wand that wasn't your own is a good sign that you're probably quite powerful."

"Th-Thanks, Harry."

A few minutes later and they were interrupted by three very unwelcome guests.

"Well, look who it is," Malfoy sneered, "Potty and the Weasel. I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley; did your mother die of shock?"

"Malfoy, your jokes get more childish every year," Harry said without even looking up at his archenemy's appearance.

"Shut up, Potter; you think you're lucky just because Black's not out to kill you?"

"No, but I am lucky because Sirius is my godfather and the official Head of the House of Black of which your mother is a member. Should he so wish, my godfather could have your parents' marriage dissolved and kick both you and your mother out of the Black family; what exactly would that mean for you, Malfoy?"

Draco looked, if possible, even paler than usual. If Black did what Potter suggested, then Draco would be a bastard with no name. However, Draco was not known for his brains and decided to pull out his wand to threaten Harry. Unfortunately for Draco, Harry had learned a thing or two. In a sudden crack and a flash of light, Draco Malfoy was replaced by a white ferret. There was a deafening silence before raucous laughter filled the entire compartment.

"Harry," Hermione said, her tone demanding, "that was very irresponsible and…how did you do that advanced a transfiguration?"

"I'll tell you later," he said with a shrug. He then bent down and picked up the struggling ferret. "So, Malfoy, have you learned your lesson?" The ferret nodded frantically. "Very well, then."

With a flick of his wand, Harry returned Malfoy to his human state. Now that he realized it would be a bad idea to further aggravate Potter, Malfoy and his goons left as quickly as they could.

"Bloody hell, Harry; that was brilliant!" Ron exclaimed.

"I have to admit," Hermione added, "that was very impressive magic. How _did_ you do that, Harry?"

"I got some practice during the summer."

"But…we're not allowed to use magic outside of school."

"That's what they _want_ you to think. You see, we have something called the Trace that is put on us until we're seventeen that reports use of magic to the Ministry. However, the Trace only shows if magic is used around an underage witch or wizard; it doesn't show _who_ used magic. That's why I got in trouble last summer when Dobby used magic at my relatives' house."

By now, everyone was listening intently; including Luna, though she didn't look it.

"So, what you're saying is that we can use magic in a place where there are other witches or wizards, and we won't get in trouble?" Hermione asked.

"Well, that or you practice in a heavily warded house. With the right kind of wards, even a Muggle household is a safe place to do magic."

Hermione's eyes were wide and sparkling; Harry knew she was silently pleading with him to find out how to get those wards set up for her. Harry gave a bemused sigh.

"Yes, Hermione, I will contact some people who can ward your house."

Without warning, Hermione launched herself at Harry and hugged him.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! I can _finally_ show my parents what I've been learning at school."

"You're welcome, Hermione. I was going to suggest it anyway. Having your home warded is good for other things, too. I got a catalogue from a really great warding company. You want to see it?"

"Yes!"

Harry withdrew a large, paper compendium entitled _Bulwark's Warding Company_ that was immediately snatched from his hands by a very enthusiastic Hermione. Harry noticed the girl's eyes were glazed-over as she read every word before her. Ron was giving Hermione a disgusted look, as though he couldn't understand why anyone would want to read something they didn't have to.

* * *

It wasn't long before the train pulled into the familiar site of Hogsmeade Station. Harry was very curious about whether or not he would be able to see the thestrals. Sure enough, when the students approached the waiting carriages, there were the skeletal-looking, winged horses. Tentatively, Harry reached out a hand and patted one of the creatures on the snout.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione asked.

"Petting the thestrals," he responded.

"The what?"

"I can see them, too," Luna interjected.

Ron swirled a finger around next to his head to imply something about Luna's sanity.

"Harry," Hermione continued, "there's nothing there. The carriages pull themselves."

"Actually, Hermione," Neville spoke up, "I see it as well; it's sort of a skeleton horse thing."

"Thestrals," Luna repeated, "they can only be seen by those who've seen death."

Hermione looked instantly embarrassed while Ron just seemed to be getting impatient.

"Whatever," the red-head said, "can we just get in the carriage? I'm starving."

Harry, still very much the gentleman, offered Hermione and then Luna a hand into the carriage. Once they were all inside the vehicle, the thestrals began to move forward.

"This carriage smells funny," Ron complained.

It was true; the carriage had a faintly moldy smell to it. _Note to self_, Harry thought, _have the carriages refurbished_.

It had started to rain by the time the carriages pulled up outside the entrance hall. Ron and Neville were the first ones out, followed by Harry who gave the girls a hand down. As they were heading in, McGonagall called Hermione over for a quick word. A minute later, Hermione had rejoined them.

"What was that about?" Ron asked.

"Oh, nothing," Hermione answered with a smile.

Harry smirked knowingly.

"Well, it's almost _time_ for the Sorting; let's get to our seats," he said.

Luna gave them a parting wave as they split up to go to their own House tables. Soon enough, the line of first-years entered.

"Did we ever look that terrified when we were that little?" Harry asked jokingly.

"_You_ might have," Hermione replied.

Professor McGonagall brought forth the Sorting Hat and placed it on the stool. The rip near the brim of the Sorting Hat appeared and the ancient artefact burst into song.

"_Immanuel Kant was real pissant_

_Who was very rarely stable._

_Heidegger, Heidegger was a boozy beggar_

_Who could think you under the table._

_David Hume could out-consume_

_Schopenhauer and Hegel._

_And Wittgenstein was a beery swine_

_Who was just as schloshed as Schlegel._

_There's nothing Nietzsche couldn't teach ya_

'_Bout the raising of the wrist._

_Socrates, himself, was permanently pissed…_

_John Stuart Mill, of his own free will,_

_On half a pint of shandy was particularly ill._

_Plato, they say, could stick it away;_

_Half a crate of whiskey every day._

_Aristotle, Aristotle was a bugger for the bottle,_

_Hobbes was fond of his dram,_

_And Rene Descartes was a drunken fart: "I drink, therefore I am."_

_Yes, Socrates, himself, is particularly missed;_

_A lovely little thinker but a bugger when he's pissed._"

By the end of the song, a large number of Muggle-born and half-blood students were in hysterics and applauding wildly. Almost every pure-blood in the room was confused, but most clapped politely.

"I didn't get it," Fred said.

"The song was making fun of famous Muggle intellectuals," Hermione replied through her laughter. "It implies that all the famous philosophers were drunks."

"Which probably isn't that far from the truth," Harry said with a smirk. "Though, I wish the hat had mentioned Diogenes the Cynic. He was a Greek philosopher who believed so strongly in the wickedness of material possessions that he spent much of his life living naked in a barrel."

Fred and George were looking at Harry in a way that suggested they weren't sure whether or not he was having them on.

"Harry, how do you know so much about Greek philosophers?" Hermione asked.

"Well, you have to know these things when you're the Boy-Who-Lived, you know," he replied with a shrug.

Thirty or so minutes later, the students were sorted and the feast was begun.

_Yes_, Harry thought, _it's good to be home_.

* * *

**Author's Note****: The little factoid about Diogenes the Cynic was just something I had to throw in there; it's also completely true. Diogenes was a crabby old philosopher who lived in a barrel and had an absolute lack of any sort of social graces (he even pissed at people he didn't like).**


	8. The Lion Is In the Contract

He's Not Dead Yet

**I. Hope. You're. En. Joy. Ing. This!**

**I. Don't. Own. Har. Ry. Pot. Ter!**

**Or! Monty Python's Flying Circuses!**

**Uhh…My BRAIN hurts!**

The Lion Is In the Contract

Years of waking up early had trained Harry Potter to be wide awake just before the sun came up. Harry had decided, just before vacation ended, that he would start working out so that he wouldn't be so skinny; it seems that being a Metamorphmagus does not mean that you can automatically be in shape even if you can make yourself look it. Red had helped him pick out some fitness clothes and sneakers when they had gone shopping; so, a quick change of clothes later, Harry was out the common room entrance and down to the lake to start a morning jog. It was actually quite refreshing and really helped him clear his head. When he was younger, Harry ran quite a lot (mostly due to his need to escape Dudley and his gang), and, from Harry's experience, running actually was helpful in life-or-death situations. Breakfast was already being served once Harry had finished his jog; however, Harry was one of the first people down. Soon enough, students and faculty filtered into the Great Hall.

Harry had anticipated his outfit causing trouble; and so, as expected, Professor McGonagall came straight over to him.

"Mr. Potter, what are you doing?" she asked.

"Having breakfast, Professor," he answered cheerily.

"No, Mr. Potter, I mean your clothes. Why are you not in uniform?"

"Well, Professor, the Student Rulebook says that we have to wear our uniforms to class, feasts, and school functions. I am dressed this way because I have just finished my morning exercise; I assure you that I will change clothes before I head off for class."

McGonagall pursed her lips thoughtfully for a moment before nodding in consent.

"Very well, Mr. Potter; carry on."

Naturally, Harry's different attire garnered further questioning from his housemates. Many of the other Gryffindors couldn't fathom why Harry would get up so early and exercise for _fun_.

"It's the same reason Wood has us up before dawn to practice Quidditch," he replied. "I'm sure there are plenty of people who consider doing that to be ridiculous."

Hermione seemed quite pleased that Harry had decided to start exercising as it was very good for his health; although, she seemed rather reluctant to take up Harry's invitation to join him on his morning excursions.

During breakfast, a couple of people approached Harry about the _Quibbler_ article to ask if it was true that he was a Metamorphmagus. Harry responded by making his hair turn bright red, much to the amusement of his fellow Gryffindors. Fred and George exchanged looks, silently agreeing that Harry would indeed be an excellent prankster and that they should enlist him in an upcoming prank of theirs.

Harry finished his breakfast, told Hermione he would meet her outside the common room so they could head off to Arithmancy together, and set off in search of a shower and a change of clothes. When Harry arrived at the dormitory, he saw that Ron was still asleep. Deciding to be a good friend to the carrot-topped garbage-disposal (though Ron didn't really deserve it), Harry shouted at the top of his lungs: "Ron! Wake up if you want to get breakfast before class starts!"

It surprised Harry just how quickly Ron could move with the right motivation.

A shower and change of clothes later, Harry made his way downstairs to find Hermione. The bushy-haired girl was practically skipping with excitement as they made their way through the halls.

"So," Harry said, "where _is_ the Arithmancy classroom?"

Hermione's excitement dwindled for a moment when she realized she wasn't exactly sure. They wandered about for a while before they met up with a few others who seemed rather lost; Harry recognized them as Daphne Greengrass and her friend Tracey Davis.

"Hi, Daphne," Harry said with a friendly wave.

"Oh, hello, Harry," Daphne responded somewhat uncertainly.

Hermione was giving Harry a weird look; never before had Harry shown any familiarity with Slytherins.

"It's nice to see you again," Harry continued and then turned to Tracey. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure?"

"Tracey Davis. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Potter," Tracey greeted as she offered her hand and grinned at her friend. Harry took the offered hand and placed a gentle kiss on the top.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Davis."

"Oh, he's definitely a keeper," Tracey whispered to Daphne who was blushing slightly.

"So," Harry continued, "may I ask where you lovely ladies are headed?"

"Arithmancy class," Daphne answered, "But we're completely lost."

"What a coincidence, so are we. Perhaps we should all be lost together?"

Daphne and Tracey chuckled while Hermione just rolled her eyes at Harry's blatant flirting; though it didn't stop a bemused smile forming on her face. It was nice to see Harry cheerful for once; she hated it when he went all morose and depressed.

As the group made their way around, Harry noticed a very familiar painting.

"What villains are these who trespass on my private lands?" Sir Cadogan demanded. "Come to scorn at my fall, perchance? Draw, you knaves, you dogs!"

"Good sir knight," Harry said in a mock-pompous tone. "We are in haste. We seek the Arithmancy classroom; would you, by any chance, happen to know the way?"

"A quest! Come follow me, dear friends, and we shall find our goal, or else shall perish bravely in the charge!" The knight then tried and failed to mount the fat pony in the painting. "On foot, then, good sir and gentle ladies! On! On!"

Sir Cadogan led them through the many halls of Hogwarts until he finally stopped in a painting of a group of French knights, who jeered at passersby, that was just outside a classroom.

"So, we meet again, Engleesh pig-dog!" one of the Frenchmen declared.

"Aha!" Sir Cadogan proclaimed. "I wondered when I wouldst come upon you again, French-persons! Stand and fight!"

"You don' frighten us!" the Frenchman continued. "Go an' boil your bottom, son of a silly person! Your mozzer waz a 'amster an' your fazzer smelt of elderberreez!"

The Frenchman and his compatriots began to make silly faces and blow raspberries at Sir Cadogan who only became further enraged. Scowling, the portly knight turned to Harry and the girls.

"Follow me, good friends," he said, his voice heavy with vexation. "Just ignore these petulant foreigners."

"What is a portrait of French knights even doing in a British school?" said Tracey.

"Mind your own business!" shouted the French knight from before.

Sir Cadogan forcibly brushed past the French knights, being pelted with anything said Frenchmen could find as he did so.

"Yes, go, you Engleesh bed-wetting types," the Frenchman continued. "And if you zink you 'ad a nasty taunting zis time, you ain't 'eard nozzing yet! Pffffffftttttt!"

"What a strange person," Harry heard Hermione mutter as they left.

Sir Cadogan continued to lead the four students to the Arithmancy room. With a guffaw of triumph, he turned to them.

"Farewell!" he declared. "Farewell, my comrades-in-arms! If you ever have need of noble heart and steely sinew, call upon Sir Cadogan!"

"Thank you, brave sir knight," Harry said, "Fare thee well." With a smug smile, Harry ushered the three, gobsmacked young ladies into the room.

"What on earth was _that_ all about, Harry?" Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged.

"I just got the impression he would respond well to an olden-timey sort of conversation."

"I thought it was cute," Tracey said. "You sounded like a hero in an Arthurian legend."

The four took their seats just as the rest of the class entered. Harry recognized several students from DA, including Susan Bones and her friend Hannah Abbott. There was a large number of Ravenclaws, a couple more Hufflepuffs, three more Slytherins, and one other Gryffindor. The class quieted as Professor Vector entered. She was a strict-looking, middle-aged woman with long, black hair and was dressed in robes of dark red.

"Good morning, class," she said as she approached the chalkboard, "Welcome to Arithmancy. In this class, you will learn the magical power of numbers and their uses in the making of spells, the enchanting of objects, and, to a lesser extent, their use in divining the future. We will be studying two methods; the Agrippan Method and the Chaldean Method. If anyone in this class is a Muggle-born or has at least attended a Muggle school, you may find yourselves at an advantage owing to your education in Mathematics."

Harry's attention was immediately caught; in primary school, Math had been one of his favorite subjects. As the class got under way, Harry found he really enjoyed Arithmancy; he also found himself mentally hitting himself over the head for not taking this class in his previous timeline.

Harry was grinning by the time he and Hermione had to set off for Transfiguration. He gave a polite farewell to Daphne and Tracey, with the promise to see them in Care of Magical Creatures, and headed out.

Harry and Hermione took a seat at the front of the Transfiguration classroom (luckily, Harry already knew how to get there so they weren't late) and Hermione turned to face him.

"Well, that certainly was a fascinating class," she said.

"I'll say," Harry agreed. "I really am glad I chose that over Divination. When I was in Muggle school, Math was actually one of my favorite subjects."

"Mine, too; it was my second favorite; right above Science and right below History."

Slowly the classroom filled. Harry noticed that Ron was looking rather shaken and that the students from Divination all looked somber. _Three guesses what happened_, Harry thought. The class went much the same as before, only it was Ron and not Harry who was the subject of Trelawney's death omens. Harry enjoyed the class much more than last time; it was the one about Animagi.

When class finished, Harry went up to Professor McGonagall and asked if she had any information about becoming an Animagus; the Scottish Transfiguration teacher happily provided Harry with a series of Ministry pamphlets about the process.

"What do you think," Harry said as he and his friends headed down to lunch, "Wouldn't it be cool to become an Animagus?"

"Most definitely," Hermione agreed.

"Yeah," Ron added, not really listening. He still looked rather glum about his predicted death.

He was still scowling when they sat down to eat.

"Ron, cheer up," Hermione said as she passed him some stew. "You heard what Professor McGonagall said."

Ron grumbled but accepted the offered food. Sure enough, the two got into an argument about Divination class.

"If being good at Divination means I have to pretend to see death omens in a lump of tea leaves, I'm not sure I'll be studying it much longer! That lesson was absolute rubbish compared to my Arithmancy class!"

She snatched up her bag and marched out of the hall.

"What's she talking about?" Ron said. "She hasn't been to Arithmancy yet."

"Yes, she has, Ron," Harry stated. "I was there with her the entire time."

"But-but that's not possible! She'd have to be in two places at once!"

"Honestly, Ron, how can someone be in two places at once?" Harry said with a grin.

As the afternoon mail arrived, Harry's grin widened as Hedwig descended and dropped off several letters for him.

"Who's writing to _you_?" Ron asked.

"Nobody," Harry replied automatically.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_ The first one read,

_We have succeeded in contacting your new Potions instructor. Mr. Preston said that he would be delighted for the opportunity to teach you and that he would be more than willing to accept your classmates under his tutelage. He should be there tomorrow at about 7:30 am and will meet you in the Great Hall. We have also found a tutor in Magical Customs that you requested; she will be there on Friday at 5:00 pm._

_Yours faithfully,_

_Frieda Bayly_

_Oh, P.S: You'll be pleased to know that the matter regarding Mr. Rubeus Hagrid that you informed us of has been sorted out with the Ministry and he should receive a letter by the end of the day._

The next one was from Libra Black.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_You should be pleased to know that your petition for an Order of Restraint has been approved by both the Ministry of Magic and the non-magical court of law. By tomorrow morning, Mr. Severus Snape will receive an official statement informing him that he is to have no further contact with you._

_Happy to be of service,_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Libra Black_

The final letter was from Gringotts.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_In response to your inquiry regarding the basilisk carcass, we at Gringotts have located experts on game and hunting who will arrive at Hogwarts this Saturday at 8:00 am. Once they have determined the value and removed the carcass, Gringotts will be more than happy to comply with your request that the money be awarded evenly to the victims. Messrs. Hank and Roy Spim were delighted to offer their services to your endeavor._

_Yours etc._

_Ragnok _

_Gringotts Senior Account Manager/Company Director_

* * *

Harry quickly made his way back to the Gryffindor dormitory to retrieve his _Monster Book of Monsters_. When he entered the common room, he noticed a Gryffindor girl from his year fending off one of the demonic dissertations. She was actually handling the thing fairly well; she was standing on top of a small table as the thing snapped angrily from the ground; then, without warning, she jumped straight down onto it, crushing it beneath her feet. The text, now immobilized, was soon restrained by a thick belt.

"You know," Harry said to the girl, "if you stroke the book's spine, it will calm right down."

The girl looked at him in surprise for a moment, but then followed his advice. The book instantly stilled. Harry took a good look at the girl; she was a little taller than he was, her long, dark brown hair was somewhat disheveled, and her blue eyes looked at him with gratitude.

"Thanks," she said, "Some books, huh?"

"Yep. Hagrid probably thought they were funny. I'm Harry, by the way."

"If there was ever someone who didn't need an introduction, it would be you, Harry Potter," she replied with a cheeky grin. Harry noticed that she had a somewhat diluted Scottish accent; as though she had grown up around both Scottish and English people. "I'm Fay Dunbar." She offered a friendly hand which Harry accepted.

"So, you're in Care of Magical Creatures, as well?"

"Ay, I love animals so I thought it would be perfect for me. However, these monster books are making me have second thoughts. How'd you know how to stop them attacking?"

Harry gave a non-committal shrug.

"It just seemed like the most obvious thing to do. Would you care to join me on the walk down to class?"

"I'd love to."

Harry quickly ran upstairs to get his own book and together they set off. They met up with Ron and Hermione (who weren't speaking with each other) and together they arrived outside Hagrid's hut. Hagrid looked as enthusiastic for his first class as he had been in the other timeline.

"C'mon, now, get a move on!" he called as the class approached. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"

They followed him out to the paddock where the hippogriffs were kept.

"Everyone gather 'round the fence here! Tha's it, make sure yeh can see! Now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books-"

"How?" the drawling voice of Draco Malfoy interrupted.

"Eh?"

"How do we open our books?"

"Just stroke the spine, of course," Harry said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world before presenting his own, unbound, book.

"Exac'ly!" Hagrid announced, clearly very pleased.

"Oh, how silly we've all been," Malfoy sneered. "We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess?!"

"Maybe you weren't clever enough to guess it, Malfoy," Harry replied smoothly.

"And how did _you_ figure it out, Potter?"

"I used something that you seem to be sadly lacking. A brain."

Many people snickered at that; despite the fact that they themselves hadn't known what to do.

Hagrid, realizing trouble was brewing, decided to turn attention back to class.

"God, this place is going to the dogs," Malfoy sneered once Hagrid had gone to fetch the hippogriffs. "That oaf teaching classes; my father will have a fit when-"

"Malfoy, no one cares what your father does," Harry said. "And if you go crying to him for every little thing that doesn't go your way, I seriously doubt that will gain you respect."

Before Malfoy could retort, Lavender Brown let out an "ooooh!" when she saw the hippogriffs being led forward. Harry smiled when he saw Buckbeak; there was no way he would let either him or Hagrid get in trouble for Malfoy's carelessness. Of course, when Hagrid called for a volunteer, Harry stepped forward. Harry bowed low to Buckbeak, who bowed back; then came the exhilarating ride on the hippogriff that brought back a great deal of memories for Harry. When Buckbeak landed, Harry noticed that quite a few girls were looking at him with admiration and several boys looked at him with respect.

Harry paid close attention to Malfoy throughout the lesson; sure enough, the prat insulted Buckbeak and the hippogriff reared on its hind legs. Luckily, Harry had always been rather fast; so, before Buckbeak could take a chunk out of Malfoy's arm, Harry dashed forward and knocked the blonde ponce out of the way.

"What are you doing, Potter?!"

"Saving you from getting mauled, that's what!"

Hagrid managed to get Buckbeak under control and back to the paddock. Everyone who had seen Harry push Malfoy out of the way knew that that was the only reason the ferret-faced git wasn't in the hospital wing. Harry soon found himself the hero of the day in the eyes of a number of people; especially the girls.

* * *

As Harry sat down for dinner that evening, he heard a few whispered comments.

"…and, even though he hates the prat, Harry saved him…"

"…He's so brave. You should have seen him face down the hippogriff…"

"…It takes a really sweet and chivalrous guy to protect both friends and enemies from harm…"

_This is weird_, Harry thought, _they never said anything like that about me. Maybe my 'saving people thing' isn't so bad after all._

Of course, Ron was less than impressed.

"Why did you save Malfoy, Harry?" he asked. "He deserved to get injured for being an idiot."

"I did it because Malfoy would have used it as an excuse to get Hagrid into trouble," Harry retorted.

"While I don't approve of you putting yourself at risk, Harry," Hermione said, "I must admit it was a noble thing for you to have done."

Harry noticed up at the staff table that Hagrid was talking to Professor McGonagall; they both kept glancing in his direction and Harry was certain that the stern Deputy-Headmistress was smiling. A few minutes later, Harry noticed that a great deal of red gems fell into the Gryffindor hourglass. Dinner progressed slowly until an owl swooped in and delivered a letter to Hagrid. Hagrid quickly opened the message and, about a minute later, he was crying loud, happy tears.

After dinner was over, Harry made his way over to the staff table.

"Hagrid," he said innocently, "what had you so worked up?"

"H-Harry," the half-giant sniffled, "the Ministry's cleared me name in regards to the Chamber o' Secrets. I'm allowed ter get a new wand and use magic an'… everythin'!"

"Wow, congratulations, Hagrid."

Hagrid then looked at Harry.

"Now, don' play dumb, 'arry. I know you 'ad somethin' ter do with this."

"Well, I _may_ have mentioned to my lawyers that an injustice or two was committed. And they _may_ have brought it up with the Ministry."

It took a while before Harry was able to break away from a grateful Hagrid and go to bed.

* * *

The next day dawned bright and early, but Harry Potter was up even earlier. Another brisk, morning jog and he was set for the day. Once again, the students and staff slowly entered and took their seats. Not long after everyone was in the Great Hall, the doors swung open to admit a newcomer. He was a tall, tan man in his late twenties, with light brown hair and hazel eyes. The man strode over to Harry and shook his hand.

"Harry Potter, I presume?" he said in an American accent.

"Yes, sir?"

"I'm Robert Preston, the private Potions teacher you sent for."

"What is going on here, Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"Oh, Professor," Harry said, "this is Mr. Robert Preston. I hired him to teach me Potions as I have no intention of continuing in that farce of a class that Snape teaches."

"_Professor_ Snape," McGonagall corrected.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I cannot, in good conscience, acknowledge that man by such a prestigious title as he is as qualified to teach children as a Gestapo agent."

Many pure-bloods were confused by that statement, but the Muggle-borns all understood.

"Nevertheless," McGonagall continued, "I must inquire as to what is going on."

Her answer came in the form of an enraged Snape swooping down upon them.

"Potter!" he shouted as he waved an official-looking letter. "What is the meaning of this?!"

Instead of answering, Harry handed him a piece of paper.

"I took out a restraining order against you," Snape read. "If you attempt to communicate with me in any way, shape, or form, I will have no choice but to press charges on the grounds of harassment." Snape then ripped up the paper and began shouting. "Potter! You will cease this nonsense, at once! I am your teacher and you will treat me with respect!"

"Um, pardon, sir," Mr. Preston spoke up, "In my experience, respect is something you earn."

"Who are you?!" Snape demanded.

"As I was about to explain, I am Mr. Potter's new Potions teacher."

"_I_ am the Potions master in this school," Snape growled.

"Well, sorry, but Mr. Potter over here hired me at the suggestion of his lawyers."

Harry turned to address McGonagall, completely ignoring Snape in the process.

"You see, ma'am, I have been very disappointed in the lack of professionalism and sub-standard teaching methods of the Hogwarts Potions instructor," he said.

"Why you insolent little whelp!" shouted Snape, but Harry ignored him.

"Mr. Preston is one of the United States' premier experts in Potions and is also a fully-qualified educator."

"I got my Teaching and Occult Studies degrees from Miskatonic University in Arkham, Massachusetts," Mr. Preston added. "Complete with an Honorable Mention."

"Besides," Harry continued, "according to the School Charter, I am perfectly at liberty to hire an instructor should I find the school has not provided a suitable one. I also extend an invitation to my year-mates to join my private classes. Professor McGonagall, is there, perhaps, a vacant room that is suitable for a Potions class as that is the first on my schedule today?"

Though her features were stoic, Minerva McGonagall was doing a mental happy-dance. She had never liked Snape, not even when he was a student, and was more than happy to stick it to him.

"Why, certainly, Mr. Potter," she said. "I'm sure we can accommodate you."

As the head of Gryffindor House led away Harry, his new Potions teacher, and a great majority of the third years, no one really paid any further attention to the spluttering figure of Severus Snape.

* * *

Harry wasn't too surprised that three-quarters of the third year had turned up for Mr. Preston's class; though, he was surprised to see Daphne, Tracey, and…Blaise Zabini?

"Hi, Harry," Tracey greeted.

"Hi, Tracey; hi, Daphne."

"You're probably shocked to see Slytherins here."

"A little."

"Only a moron would stay in Snape's class," Daphne stated. "You know how Snape lets Slytherins slide through class? Well, that's just setting them up for failure because he makes no attempt to correct them. We came here because we actually want to learn something."

"Me, too," Blaise said as he came over to introduce himself. "My mother is a skilled Potions Mistress and she has been increasingly disappointed in the way I've been learning."

"Well," Harry said, "everyone is welcome in this class-"

"Oi!" came an annoyed shout that caused Harry to groan. Ron Weasley marched right over to where Harry and the three Slytherins were talking. "What are a bunch of slimy snakes doing here? I thought this class was so we could get away from them."

"Ron," Harry snapped, "the classes are open to anyone who wants to actually learn Potions. Kindly show a modicum of civility."

"But, Harry, they're Slytherins!"

"Yes, and so was my grandmother."

"Your gran was a Slytherin?"

"So was yours, Weasley," Daphne stated.

"How dare you, you snake! My gran was _not_ a Slytherin!"

"Uh, yeah, she was, Ron," Harry added. "Cedrella Weasley, your dad's mum, was born Cedrella Black." Harry remembered this from right before fifth year when he had asked Sirius about the Black family tree.

"She was disowned from the Black family for marrying Septimus Weasley, a known Muggle-lover," Daphne concurred. "Before that, she was actually a highly respected Slytherin. She was the last girl to play for the Slytherin Quidditch team and she also founded the Wizard's Chess Club."

"You're all lying!" Ron protested, completely ignoring the cool things his gran had done. "My grandmother was _not_ a Slytherin."

Harry exchanged a look with the three Slytherins. Luckily, they were saved when Mr. Preston told them all to take a seat.

"Good morning, everyone," he said cheerily.

There was a chorus of "good morning" throughout the room. Harry noticed that everyone looked more than a little eager.

"Now, class, before we begin, it is standard practice to go over the safety regulations."

There was some confused whispering.

"What? Don't tell me your Professor Snape never told you the basic safety practices."

Harry raised his hand.

"Professor Snape's method was to tell us the instructions are on the board and then berate us if we did anything wrong."

"That's no way to teach," Mr. Preston said with a tone of disgust. "Well, looks like I'd better take it from the top." He gave a quick wave of his wand and a poster appeared on the board. He then pointed to each rule that was listed. "Rule 1: You shall conduct yourselves in a responsible manner in this classroom, Rule 2: Follow all instructions with caution and come see me if you have any questions, Rule 3: Never work alone or leave your cauldron unattended, Rule 4: Do not touch the ingredients until instructed, Rule 5: Do not eat or drink in the class, Rule 6: Come to class prepared, Rule 7: Once you have finished brewing a potion it is important that you clean your work area, Rule 8: Stay alert and inform me immediately if there is a problem, Rule 9: When working, you should always wear protective goggles, gloves, and aprons…"

"Um, I beg your pardon, sir, but what are goggles?" a pure-blood from Hufflepuff asked.

Mr. Preston looked at the student as if the boy had sprouted two heads.

"This is going to take a while," he said with a sigh.

After explaining the rest of the safety regulations and the necessary tools, it was time to begin class.

"Now, can anyone tell me why you should never sit down while brewing?"

Naturally, Hermione's hand shot up into the air.

"Yes, Miss…?"

"Granger, sir, Hermione Granger. If you sit down while brewing then you risk being injured if the potion were to spill as it would land right on your lap."

"Excellent. If I was authorized to award points then you would have earned ten. Yes, you should never do work like this seated; the same rule applies in Chemistry, as do most of the other rules. Now, today we will be brewing a Shrinking Solution…"

Mr. Preston talked them through the process, step at a time, and then set them to work. Each student partnered up at a cauldron and began. Mr. Preston told them he would observe how they did and promised to help them if they were having problems. As the class went on, he eventually came to Neville and Seamus' cauldron which contained a bright orange concoction.

"I'm afraid that's not quite right, boys," Mr. Preston said calmly. "Luckily, it is salvageable and I have seen far worse. Here," he pulled up the textbook, "look through the instructions and tell me where you went wrong."

Neville was blushing vibrantly as he read off several steps he missed.

"It's alright, young man. Here are some easy steps to help get your potion back to where it needs to be." He handed Neville and Seamus a slip of paper with a few, simple steps on it.

By the end of the class, everyone had brewed a satisfactory potion; the same could not be said of Snape's class, however. Everyone who had been to Mr. Preston's class agreed it was the best Potions class they'd ever been to. It was a cheery lot that made its way to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

DADA was just as interesting this time as it was in the last timeline. Once again, they faced the boggart; Harry was very interested in finding out what his boggart would be so he got in the line right behind Neville so that Lupin would have no excuse to prevent him from facing the creature. When Harry stepped forward, the boggart took a few minutes before it turned into Harry's main counselor from the Ministry of Death.

"You're running out of time, Mr. Potter," the boggart said. "If you don't get cracking, everyone will be doomed!"

"_Riddikulus_," Harry said. The boggart then changed into Mr. Lambert.

"Rotten! Rotten! You're no bloody use, at all! You're an utter, bloody wash-out! You make me sick, you weed!"

"_Riddikulus_!" Harry said, more forcefully this time.

The boggart then found itself upside-down, suspended by one ankle, with its coat hanging over its head.

Needless to say, Harry received some strange looks after that incident.

* * *

Due to the recent occurrences, it was to be expected that Harry would be approached by the Headmaster. The manipulative old bastard accosted Harry as he was on his way to dinner.

"Harry, my boy," Dumbledore said in his best grandfatherly tone. "I was wondering if I could have a word."

"You can have several, sir," Harry replied. "Is this matter regarding academics or is it a social call?"

"I just want to have a talk with you, Harry. In my office."

"If the matter does not regard academics, then you will have to pre-arrange the meeting with my guardian and have both him and my Head of House present for the proceeding, as stated in the school charter."

Dumbledore looked completely confused. The boy hadn't automatically done as he asked? This wasn't a matter that could wait and Albus doubted he would get permission from Sirius Black anytime soon (the young Lord owed Albus Dumbledore nothing).

"I'm sure we can overlook those little details, Harry."

"I'm afraid not, sir. Frankly, I find it odd that an older man with no familial connection to an underage boy takes a rather too fond interest in said boy. Do you often meet with your young, male students or is it just me?"

Dumbledore had the expression of a man who had been kneed in the groin. He really did not appreciate what Harry was implying.

"Harry…"

"Another thing, sir, you should address all students by their last names. Why do you insist upon addressing _me_ by my first name? It shows a great lack of professionalism on your part, sir." Before Dumbledore could respond, Harry continued. "If you wish to have a conversation with me in your office that does not pertain to academics, you _will_ need permission from my guardian, sir. I bid you good day."

Dumbledore stared, incredulous, at the figure of Harry Potter proceeding into the Great Hall. The one thing that passed through the Headmaster's mind was _What the Hell just happened?!_

* * *

That evening, as Harry entered the Gryffindor common room, he was approached by the Weasley twins. Both were smiling the way they often did if they were about to do something against the rules.

"Hey, guys," he greeted. "You need to borrow the Map?"

"Actually," George replied, "We were wondering-"

"If you would be interested in a little…hijink we are orchestrating," Fred continued.

Harry looked at the twins' eager faces, grinned, and nodded.

* * *

**Omake:**

Meanwhile, miles away at an old manor house, Lord Richard Acton poured his guest a glass of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey.

"I was well acquainted with both your grandfathers, Lord Black," he said. "You are practically a clone of old Arcturus, both in appearance and disposition. Though, you have a bit of Pollux's temper in you."

"Really?" Sirius said with a slight wince.

"It's not a bad thing, young man. You give your family too little credit. Arcturus was a good man; he wouldn't even let your family disinherit you."

"He-He did that?"

"Oh, yes. Your grandfather Pollux and his harpy of a daughter wanted to arrange it so you would meet with an unfortunate 'accident.'"

"What about my father?"

"Oh, Orion just wanted everyone to leave him alone. For years until his death, your father would come by this house and visit my son Charles. I remember the night you ran away. Your father showed up at three-in-the-morning, got sozzled on bourbon, and was heard to exclaim 'why couldn't the lucky little bastard have taken me with him?'"

"Wow," Sirius said with slightly teary eyes, "didn't know the old man cared so much."

"Oh, he cared about you, there's no doubt about that. It's just your mother he couldn't stand. Whenever he came by our house, the first thing he would say was 'haven't seen my wife, have you?' and when we said 'no' he would reply 'oh, thank God for that.'"

The two men chuckled.

"Oh, Charles gave me a copy of a memory of one of his visits to your house after you had left. Care to see?"

"Sure."

Lord Acton led Sirius over to an old pensieve and deposited a memory.

"After you," he said.

It wasn't too hard to recognize the glowering figure of the aged Orion Black seated across from his banshee of a wife. In-between the two of them was Charles Acton who looked perfectly at-ease.

"_There's Bellatrix, she's my brother's eldest," Walburga said, "She has a respectable job at the Ministry and is married to a decent pure-blood boy named Rodolphus Lestrange."_

"_Rodolphus…who used to be a hairdresser?" Charles asked._

"_Yes, that's right. I think he's a splendid young man. Mind you, my husband doesn't; he thinks he's a bit, uh, thinks he's a bit flash."_

"_I hate him, I hate his guts," Orion growled out._

"_Of course, they come down on most weekends, so you'll be able to meet them then."_

"_I'd love to," Charles said in a slight monotone. "Hairdressing sounds most interesting."_

"_Oh, yes, and very important, too. If you don't take care of your scalp, you get Spattergroit."_

Sirius shook his head in disbelief. He knew his mum was nuts, but clearly she had just gone right off-the-handle after he left.

"_Then there's our son, Regulus, he's our youngest. Mind you, he's a bit of a problem…at least my husband thinks so, anyway."_

"_Nasty little piece of work he is," Orion grumbled. "I hate him."_

"_Mind you, the one we don't hear much about nowadays is Narcissa. She's my brother's youngest. She married Lucius Malfoy, a respectable member of the community and a very influential figure at the Ministry. They live in Wiltshire. They have a lovely little boy, Draco, who's going to be a year old in a few months. Draco looks absolutely the spitting-image of his father. Do you want to see a photo?"_

"_Oh, yes, please," said Charles._

"_All right."_

_Walburga stood up and went inside to find the afore-mentioned photograph._

"_A right little bastard," Orion snarled once his wife had gone. "I hate him. He's got eyes like a little pig's; just like his mother. She's a disaster. Really horrible-looking person, she is. I thought that one would stay on the shelf; but along comes this stupid Malfoy git. He's a real creepy little bastard, he is. I hate him. At least Andromeda and Sirius managed to get out while they still could. If one more member of this family married another snotty, little bastard or joined up with that Voldemort git, I don't know what I'd do. Really horrible person that Voldemort bastard is. I hate him. Of course, Wally won't hear a word against him. Just wish I could get out of this rotten hell-hole."_

"_This is a nice area," Charles said, changing the subject._

"_It's like a bloody graveyard. I hate it."_

"_It's handy for the shops and convenient for the west end."_

"_If you like going to the west end; I think it's a stinking dump."_


	9. Raising Gangsters for Fun and Profit

He's Not Dead Yet

**I don't own Harry Potter or anything to do with Monty Python.**

Raising Gangsters for Fun and Profit

The following day saw a very amused Harry Potter and Weasley twins sitting at the Gryffindor table. Hermione raised a suspicious eyebrow at them but knew better than to ask. Harry was grinning broadly; he and the twins had spent the previous evening committing acts that involved quite a bit of rule-breaking and caused Harry's Metamorphmagus ability to be immensely helpful in the creating of alibis.

The three boys watched, still grinning, as people entered the Great Hall. Once everyone was seated, their grins widened.

"Three."

"Two."

"One."

That's when the music started up and every suit of armor leapt out from under and then onto the house tables and began to sing.

"_We're Knights of the Round Table,_

_We dance whene'er we're able,_

_We do routines _

_And chorus scenes_

_With footwork im-pecc-able,_

_We dine well here in Camelot,_

_We eat ham and jam and spam a lot!_"

The music seemed to get louder and the suits of armor began to dance; one of them gave a kick that hit Marcus Flint in the backside.

"_We're Knights of the Round Table,_

_Are shows are for-mid-able!_

_But many times,_

_We're given rhymes_

_That are quite un-sing-able!_

_We're opera-mad in Camelot,_

_We sing from the diaphragm a loooot!_"

The dance routine then proceeded into a kick-line that sent food flying off the tables and then progressed into an impressive tap number. Several of the suits of armor had their helmets banged on by another suit of armor, which then 'accidentally' hit Ron on the head as he passed by, making him exclaim 'oof!'

"_In war, we're tough and able!_

_Quite in-de-fa-ti-gable!_

_Between our quests_

_We sequin vests_

_And impersonate Clark Gable!_

_It's a busy life in Camelot…_"

One of the suits of armor stepped forward for his big solo.

"_I have to push the pram a looooot!_"

The music gave a final few notes and the suits of armor all bowed to thunderous applause. Even Hermione found the whole thing amusing, though she was doing her best to look indignant at the obvious prank, though failing spectacularly. Even a great number of the professors were entertained by the show (well, except for Snape, but he has no sense of humor).

* * *

Soon enough, it was time for Harry and Hermione to head off for their Ancient Runes class. Runes proved to be just as interesting as Arithmancy (again, Harry mentally hit himself on the head for not taking the class simply because Ron Weasley had said not to). Ancient Runes was taught by a young woman named Bathsheba Babbling; a sinewy blonde with misty eyes of pale grey. While not as strict Professor Vector seemed to be, Professor Babbling had a certain loftiness about her that commanded the attention of her students.

"Runes," she said simply to her class that first lesson. "One of the oldest forms of Anglo-European magic. It originated amongst the Germanic peoples; eventually becoming common amongst the Norsemen." She tapped her wand on the chalkboard and writing appeared.

_Veit ek at ek hekk vindga meiði a_  
_netr allar nío,_  
_geiri vndaþr ok gefinn Oðni,_  
_sialfr sialfom mer,_  
_a þeim meiþi, er mangi veit, hvers hann af rótom renn._

Professor Babbling smiled and began to recite.

"_I know that I hung on a windy tree  
__nine__ long nights,  
wounded with a spear, dedicated to Odin,  
myself to myself,  
on that tree of which no man knows from where its roots run._"

There was an odd glow in the room. Harry could feel a strange power tickling the back of his neck; it was not unlike when he entered Ollivander's so long ago and he could feel the magic in the very air of the shop.

"This," Professor Babbling continued, "Is part of the ancient rite that first gave the power of runes to wizardkind. There have been many great and powerful witches and wizards who have harnessed the power of runes to do truly incredible things." Her eyes darted briefly to Harry. "The Evans family, in particular, has a history of using Runic Magic to become great Battle-Mages and warders; while the Peverells are rumored to have discovered a runic configuration that enabled them to create a device whereby they could communicate with the dead."

Harry's eyes widened. So _that_ was how the second brother created the Resurrection Stone.

As the class progressed, the students received a basic understanding of several different types of runes: Elder Futhark, Younger Futhark, Anglo-Saxon Futhorc, Rök Runes, Hälsinge Runes, Marcomannic Runes, Medieval Runes, and even the Dalecarlian Runes.

As they all stood up to leave when the bell rang, Professor Babbling had one final thing to tell them.

"Remember, class, that runes are powerful, eldritch magic. If anyone here signed up for this class thinking it was going to involve messing around with a few odd shapes and symbols, think again. If you mess with ancient magic you can't control, the consequences could be…quite dire. Have a nice day."

* * *

Friday evening soon arrived; at 5:00 pm, the doors of the Great Hall swung open to admit a petite, elderly woman in floral-patterned robes. Of course, it was only natural that she would head straight for Harry. The woman introduced herself as Dame Irene Stoat and that she was there to tutor Harry in Magical Customs. Professor McGonagall came over to inquire what was going on _now_; she was actually very impressed that Harry had found a tutor for Magical Customs and was perfectly happy to provide a classroom for him and the Muggle-born students who wanted to learn more about the world they had become a part of. Hermione found the class fascinating, though some of the traditions seemed rather ridiculous to her; Marriage Contracts were one of the major things she had issues with.

"Thank you for inviting me to that class, Harry," Hermione said as they headed down to dinner.

"No problem, Hermione," he replied. "You're my friend, you're more than welcome to join me in any private classes I have. Oh, speaking of which, Hermione, I was wondering if you'd care to join the Occlumency lessons I will be starting soon."

"What's Occlumency?"

"It's the art of protecting your mind. You see, there are people who have the ability to pry into your mind and see your thoughts."

"Like…mind-reading?"

"Sort of, but it's a little different. It's called Legilimency. There are only two Legilimency experts in this school that I know of; Dumbledore and Snape. Both of them peek into people's heads on a daily basis."

"Harry, how can you accuse Dumbledore of that?"

"How else does he seem to know everything that goes on around here?"

"Well, you have a point there."

"It's illegal to practice Legilimency on a minor without consent from both the minor and his/her guardian. If you come to my Occlumency classes, you will be able to protect your mind from attack and keep your secrets safe."

"When do these classes start?"

"Next Monday after dinner; until then, try and practice by clearing your mind and organizing your thoughts and memories. Here's a book that can help." No sooner had Harry retrieved the book from his bag than Hermione snatched it up and instantly began reading.

* * *

Breakfast the following day was cause for even more excitement. Not for the first time, the double-doors of the Great Hall swung open to admit newcomers. Just like in recent events, the two men who entered were there to see Harry. Both men were dressed in sandy-colored outfits that would not look out-of-place at a club for explorers and they were both wearing brown Stetson hats that were tilted to an angle. Harry noticed that the shorter of the two men had a missing arm.

"Are you 'arry Potter?" said the taller one.

"Yes, sir," replied Harry.

"I'm 'ank Spim and this fellah over 'ere is my brother Roy. We've come about the bah-silisk carcass. Would you please be so kind as tah shew us the way?"

"Yes, sir. Oh, would it be alright if some friends accompany us?"

"I don' see a problem with that, do you, Roy?"

"Nah, s'long as they don' cause trouble, it should be fine," the one-armed man agreed.

"Great," Harry said. Harry then went over to various students, especially the ones who had been affected by the basilisk, and invited them to see the Chamber of Secrets. Harry also invited Luna Lovegood and asked her to send the report to her father to use as an article for _The Quibbler_.

As it turned out, a great deal of students found themselves invited to the big event. Harry also requested the attendance of several professors; as he approached the staff table, Harry noticed that Dumbledore was curiously absent. Unbeknownst to Harry, the crazy old man was still fast asleep as the house-elf tasked with waking him up had decided it had better things to do. Of course, it had absolutely _nothing_ to do with the fact that a higher power had instructed the elf to do so. None at all.

As they walked, the brothers regaled the students with tales of their hunting exploits.

"The mosquito's a clever little bastard," said Roy. "You can track him for days and days until ya really get tah know 'im like a friend. He knows you're there, and you know he's there. Ya hate 'im, then ya respect 'im, then ya kill 'im."

"Still, not as bad as the moth-hunt, eh, Roy?" Hank said. "Basically, I follow the moth in the 'elicopter to lure it away from the flowers, and then Roy comes along in the Lockheed Starfighter and attacks it with air-to-air missiles."

"A lot of people have asked us why we don't use fly-spray. Well, where's the sport in that?"

"Does anyone else have no clue what they're talking about?" Lee Jordan whispered to the other Gryffindors who all nodded. "Oh, good, I thought it was just me."

"Here we are," Harry announced once they reached the outside of the girls' bathroom.

"Aha!" Hank declared. "O'course the ol' bugger would 'ide 'is chamber in the least likely of places."

Harry led them inside; of course, not everyone could fit in at once and there was more than one unwelcome guest who tried to follow. Luckily, the same higher power that had absolutely _nothing_ to do with keeping Dumbledore asleep had decided to shield the doorway so that only those who were welcome could enter.

"Hello, Harry," greeted the familiar form of Moaning Myrtle. "It's nice to see you again."

"Hi, Myrtle," Harry said politely. "We're all about to go down into the Chamber of Secrets to get the carcass of that basilisk that caused your death."

"Oh, that's nice."

"Would you care to join us?"

Myrtle blushed and shook her head.

"I think there's an anti-ghost ward on the place that prevents me from entering. Thank you, though."

Harry nodded and then gave the password in Parseltongue and the entrance opened. Feeling lucky, Harry then asked for stairs which quickly appeared.

"Lead on, Mr. Potter," Roy said.

Harry led everyone who was invited down into the chamber. Curiously, many of those who had been denied entry were Ravenclaws, including Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecombe; it goes without saying that neither Ronald nor Ginevra Weasley was able to enter. Of the teachers, only Severus Snape was prevented from entering; something which irked the man greatly.

Once the large host of students and faculty were at the bottom of the secret passage, Harry led them all over to the Chamber door.

"You know," Hermione spoke up, "it's curious that no one discovered this when they installed the pipe-system. Forgive me if I'm wrong, but I don't believe they had plumbing in the Dark Ages."

"Oh, someone _did_ find it," Harry stated. "The plumbing was installed in the 18th century; however, Corvinus Gaunt, a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, was attending Hogwarts at the time. Gaunt discovered a trapdoor on the site of where the girls' bathroom was to be built; so he prevented anyone from stumbling across the Chamber during the construction."

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, "how _exactly_ do you know this?"

"Let's just say I have very good sources."

Harry then opened the door to the Chamber and everyone filed in. Everyone who wasn't either Harry Potter or a Mr. Spim gasped in shock at the sight of the giant snake that was lying dead on the Chamber floor.

"Harry," Hermione said in disbelief, "you actually faced _that_?"

"Um, yes," Harry said.

"You mean tah tell me," Roy Spim said, "that a twelve-year-old with excess bindin' on 'is magic was able tah take down this bad boy." He pointed to the giant corpse.

"Yes."

"Lad, I can safely say you will always be welcome at the Magical Explorers and Hunters Club."

"Uh, thank you?"

As Hank and Roy set preservation charms on the basilisk corpse, Susan Bones approached Harry.

"Mr. Potter," she said.

"Yes, Susan isn't it?" he inquired.

"Susan Bones," she said with a nod. "I have a question or two to ask you."

"Alright."

"Would you be willing to give an official statement about what exactly went on down here that I can send to my aunt? She's the head of the DMLE."

"Oh, yes, I had the pleasure of meeting her during the summer. Sure, Susan, I'll give you a report."

"I also wanted to ask if you have investigated this chamber. It strikes me as odd that the basilisk was the only thing down here."

"What, you think there might be a secret room?"

"It's possible."

"Okay, then. I'll contact Gringotts this week and ask them to send a curse-breaker on the off-chance there's anything dangerous."

"Very sensible, Mr. Potter."

"Please, call me Harry."

"Alright, Harry, and you may call me Susan."

"That's what I _was_ calling you."

"Oh…right." Harry noticed that the girl was starting to blush. Girls were doing that a lot when he spoke to them, Harry realized.

The Spim brothers soon finished with the preservation spells and Harry asked Colin Creevey to take some pictures of the thing; something the younger boy did most eagerly. Once the photos were taken, the Spims contained the basilisk in a special transport device that they would then take to Gringotts so the carcass' value could be determined and then sold.

* * *

Later that evening in the Slytherin girls' dormitory…

"Trace?"

"Yes, Daph?"

"What do you think about Harry Potter?"

Tracey hid her face behind her magazine. Tracey knew that Daphne had it bad for Harry; but, the truth was, so did Tracey.

"I think he's very brave, and sweet, and he's…different, but in a good way."

"And he's looking well fit, lately," Daphne added.

"That too."

"So, do you think I should…I don't know, ask him out sometime?"

"That's sort of breaking protocol. Traditionally, it's the boy who asks the girl out."

"I know, but Harry doesn't seem the type who would care about that sort of thing."

"Yet another point in his favor."

Daphne paused for a moment.

"Hey, Trace?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you…you know, like Harry?"

"Of course I do; what's not to like?"

"No, I mean, do you like him in the same way that I do?"

There was an awkward silence.

"Let's get to bed, Daph; it was a very exciting day."

Neither girl realized that they weren't the only ones fantasizing about Harry Potter.

* * *

The rest of the weekend passed with relative quiet compared to the dramatic events of the first week; although, Harry frequently found himself the object of much attention from fans and well-wishers, all of whom were eager to hear Harry tell the story of his fight against the basilisk. Harry, however, responded that they would be able to read about it in an upcoming edition of _The Quibbler_. When the article came out, Harry had to laugh at how it implied that Dumbledore knew what was happening and still did nothing, playing on the fact that the aged headmaster had been around during the time the Chamber was first opened and never decided to investigate the matter once he rose to his current position. The fact that the Boy-Who-Lived had wielded the Sword of Gryffindor in defense of the students of Hogwarts led to Harry receiving a copious amount of fan-mail; much of it was from grateful parents thanking him for his bravery, the rest was mostly an assortment of marriage proposals from witches who had a taste for powerful young wizards.

Of course, Dumbledore was shocked when he discovered just what he had slept through; what followed were numerous attempts by the headmaster to speak with Harry. However, Harry responded to Dumbledore's summons, just as he had the first time, by stating that unless the meeting had something to do with academics, then the old man would have to have Harry's legal guardian, Sirius Black, present for the proceedings.

Sirius, however, was making a point of being too busy to stop by any time soon.

He had gone to Grimmauld Place, rather reluctantly, and started work renovating his ancestral home. Kreacher had, naturally, been rather angry by Sirius' presence; but Sirius had followed Harry's instructions and tried to be civil to the house-elf; of course, it didn't hurt his cause that he asked Kreacher for the locket that Regulus had wanted destroyed. Harry had told Sirius about what Regulus had gone through to try and bring down Voldemort (this had resulted in Sirius making a decision to have a memorial made for his brother at the family cemetery, after having drunk a good deal of liquor and going through an awkward and grief-filled silence). Sirius placed the locket in a secure container so that he and Harry could take it to Gringotts during Christmas Break. Sirius had asked Harry about why he wanted to wait, to which Harry responded that he also wanted to retrieve the Diadem from inside the castle and present both objects to the goblins in one visit.

Sirius, however, was not the only busy person. By the time Monday evening had rolled around, Harry and Hermione were all set for their first Occlumency lesson. The instructor Harry had hired was yet another American; Patrick Stearns, a Muggle-born wizard from New York, had been more than happy to take up the offer of Occlumency teacher to Harry Potter and any friends he brought with him. Mr. Stearns was about the same age as Mr. Preston and the two seemed to have been acquainted from past encounters at Salem Institute. Stearns was very tall, had windswept black hair, light blue eyes that were full of both calmness of mind and a hunger for excitement, and what looked like a Heidelberg dueling scar on his left cheek. Harry had to admit that Mr. Stearns was way better at teaching Occlumency than Snape (well, anyone would be); instead of blasting through Harry's mental defenses, Stearns taught his students how to build them up and then sent a few weak mind-probes. By the end of the class, Harry and Hermione were confident that they could keep out minor mental attacks.

Ron and Hermione still seemed to not be speaking with each other, which meant Harry was now the go-between for them; however, Harry seemed to have very little to say to Ron as of late (three guesses why). Harry and Hermione had started to make a great deal of friends in other Houses; in fact, his friendships with other students eventually led to the formation of a Defense Club; everyone was welcome, including Slytherins (much to _some_ people's dismay). Harry had also hired Mr. Stearns to help out at the Defense Club and a number of people were impressed with just how much the American knew about DADA; of course, Remus was also invited to be the moderator for the club and was very helpful in showing everyone a variety of spells that could be used in a fight.

* * *

At the start of October, however, Harry had something else to occupy him, something so enjoyable it almost caused him to forget his excellent classes. The Quidditch season was approaching, and Oliver Wood, Captain of the Gryffindor team, called a meeting on Thursday evening to discuss tactics for the new season.

**[The following passage was taken, unedited, from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban]**

Oliver Wood was a burly seventeen-year-old, now in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts. There was a quiet sort of desperation in his voice as he addressed his six fellow team members in the chilly locker rooms on the edge of the darkening Quidditch field.

"This is our last chance - my last chance - to win the Quidditch Cup," he told them, striding up and down in front of them. "I'll be leaving at the end of this year. I'll never get another shot at it."

"Gryffindor hasn't won for seven years now. Okay, so we've had the worst luck in the world - injuries - then the tournament getting called off last year." Wood swallowed, as though the memory still brought a lump to his throat. "But we also know we've got the best - ruddy - team - in - the - school," he said, punching a fist into his other hand, the old manic glint back in his eye. "We've got three superb Chasers."

Wood pointed at Alicia Spinner, Angelina Johnson, and Katie Bell.

"We've got two unbeatable Beaters."

"Stop it, Oliver, you're embarrassing us," said Fred and George Weasley together, pretending to blush.

"And we've got a Seeker who has never failed to win us a match!" Wood rumbled, glaring at Harry with a kind of furious pride. "And me," he added as an afterthought.

"We think you're very good too, Oliver," said George.

"Spanking good Keeper," said Fred.

"The point is," Wood went on, resuming his pacing, "the Quidditch Cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Harry joined the team, I've thought the thing was in the bag. But we haven't got it, and this year's the last chance we'll get to finally see our name on the thing..."

Wood spoke so dejectedly that even Fred and George looked sympathetic.

"Oliver, this year's our year," said Fred.

"We'll do it, Oliver!" said Angelina.

"Definitely," said Harry.

**[End of direct quotation]**

Harry had realized that, as he had prevented Malfoy from getting injured, Gryffindor would be playing Slytherin as scheduled instead of Hufflepuff like the last time. Harry knew that there was no further risk of him getting attacked by dementors, but that didn't change the fact that he hoped the weather wouldn't be as terrible as it had been that last time.

That had been one thing that bothered Harry about his Quidditch days; in fact, Harry decided that one of the things he would change once he took over his responsibilities as the owner of Hogwarts was the rules regarding Quidditch matches. If there was severe weather, it was only logical that the match should be postponed so that the players didn't risk getting nearly killed.

* * *

Upon returning to Gryffindor Tower after a long and grueling Quidditch practice, Harry discovered everyone milling about in curiosity. Professor McGonagall had decided to pay a very rare visit to the Gryffindor common room.

"Attention," she called. "I would like to make a few announcements. Firstly, I would like say that the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year is coming up…"

Harry was rather stunned. In all his time at Hogwarts, McGonagall had never held House meetings before, despite the fact that people in other Houses had said their Heads held a meeting every month. What Harry didn't know was that the only reason McGonagall had never done so was because, in addition to her responsibilities as Head of Gryffindor, she had all the additional work as both Deputy-Headmistress and Professor of Transfiguration. She knew that the reason why Harry Potter and his friends had felt the need to take matters into their own hands and nearly get killed in the process in the past two years was owed to her lack of communication and involvement with the students she was supposed to be responsible for. Minerva McGonagall knew she had to make some serious career decisions; it had been proven at Albus Dumbledore's enquiry that one person cannot handle too many titles.

"Finally," she said with a serious tone, "I have to announce my resignation as Head of Gryffindor."

There was an eruption of confusion.

McGonagall waved her hand for silence.

"I have been doing some thinking and realized that I have not fulfilled my duties as your Head of House. I have spent too much time focusing on my duties as Deputy and Transfiguration Mistress that I have neglected my students. I apologize." There was a moment of silence. "I have asked Professor Babbling to take over as Head of Gryffindor, effective immediately."

Bathsheba Babbling stepped forward to some uncertain applause. She gave a small speech about how much she was looking forward to taking up such a prestigious title and her delight at being able to represent her former House.

"I think she'll do very well," Hermione said with a smile afterwards.

"I agree," said Harry. "She's young and more able to connect with students."

"She's also more approachable than McGonagall," said George Weasley.

"We're in Runes," Fred added. "Babbling is actually very easygoing."

"Well, as long as you're not doing anything that could hurt you or other people."

"She even gave us a guide to some innocent pranks that can be pulled by inscribing certain runes on objects."

"Well, we've got to run."

"Yes, lots of things to do."

As the twins left, Hermione turned to Harry.

"I never thought those two could take anything academic seriously," she said.

"Oh, you'd be surprised, Hermione," Harry responded. "They actually do take care to learn their stuff. They'll have to if they want their joke shop to be successful."

"Joke shop?"

"Oh, didn't you know? It's their dream to open their own joke shop and run Zonko's out of business."

"I bet their mother would just _love_ that," Hermione said with heavy sarcasm.

"Why, Hermione Granger, are you making a joke?"

"Contrary to popular belief, Mr. Potter, I do enjoy a good laugh now and then."

They were interrupted by furious shouting. Ronald Weasley was desperately trying to shake a hissing Crookshanks off his leg.

"Gerroff, you stupid cat!" he yelled. He then gave a great kick that sent the orange creature up into the air, only to land lightly on top of one of the sofas. Crookshanks shook himself off, gave another hiss at Ron, and then darted over towards Harry and Hermione.

"Keep that bloody monster of yours OUT OF HERE!" Ron screamed at Hermione.

"What happened?" Harry demanded, not at all sorry that Crookshanks had attacked his former friend.

"I was upstairs in the dormitory, going through…um, I mean, I was taking a nap and that stupid cat of hers attacked me!"

Harry had a rather strong inclination that Ron was not being entirely honest.

* * *

_A few minutes earlier…_

Ronald Weasley had gotten bored with Professor McGonagall's announcements after she had finished mentioning the Hogsmeade weekend. Instead of staying to hear the rest of the news, he made his way upstairs to the dormitory. It was then that Ronald was struck by a thought, as rare an occurrence as that was. The little stunt that had happened with the whole Chamber of Secrets had made Harry wildly more popular and it was grating on Ronald Weasley's nerves. How _dare_ Harry do this to him? They were supposed to be best friends.

Ron, deciding that perhaps he should do something to get noticed or maybe get back at Harry, made his way over to Harry's trunk. He had just opened it and was reaching in to take Harry's Invisibility Cloak ("I bet I can do loads of stuff with this," Ron had said to himself.) when a bright blur of orange leapt up and clawed his hand.

"Ouch!" Ron exclaimed. He glared when he recognized Crookshanks. "Oh, it's _you_," he growled.

Crookshanks glared right back in an almost perfect imitation of an indignant Hermione.

"SHOO!" Ron yelled. Crookshanks didn't move.

Instead of listening to his voice of reason, as Ronald Weasley sadly lacked any such phenomenon, Ron decided to try and take a swat at the cat. Crookshanks jumped out of the way, gave an angry "REOW!", and then promptly leapt upon Ron, clawing him at every available turn and sending both boy and cat sprawling out of the room and tumbling down the stairs to arrive amidst a sea of amazed Gryffindors in the common room.

* * *

After the scene with Ron and Crookshanks, Harry quickly made his way upstairs to discover that someone had been going through his trunk. Harry didn't need three guesses to know the culprit was a certain redheaded ex-best friend of his. Harry reached into his trunk and pulled out the two-way mirror that Sirius had sent to him.

"Sirius Black," Harry said.

The image of his godfather soon materialized.

"Hey, Harry," Sirius said. "Things going okay?"

"Sort of," Harry replied and then related the entire incident to Sirius.

"What a little prick," Sirius said. "Tell you what, Harry; I know some great protective charms you can put on your trunk to keep out the unwelcome."

Harry got a rather evil grin as Sirius described the jinxes and hexes he could use to ward his trunk.

* * *

Halloween loomed, chilly and overcast. Harry was feeling rather grey, himself. He had never liked Halloween; not only was it the day his parents died, but something bad always seemed to happen. Harry sat up in bed and thought to himself: _No. My mum and dad wouldn't have wanted me to sit and mope. It's the first official Hogsmeade trip and I am going to have a freaking good time_. Harry decided he would not let his bad memories of Halloween ruin today for his friends; he had promised Hermione that they would see the sights together and even arranged to meet up with Neville and a couple of other friends from Defense Club at the Three Broomsticks.

Harry straightened himself out, put on some warm clothes, and headed downstairs to meet with Hermione. They made their way out to where Professor Babbling was collecting the permission forms from the Gryffindor students; Harry proudly handed over the form that Sirius had signed and then walked down to the carriage with Hermione.

As the thestral-drawn carriage carrying Harry and Hermione made its way down to Hogsmeade, Hermione met Harry's eyes.

"Harry," she said suddenly. "I'm going to ask you something. You don't have to answer if you don't want, but I would like to know."

"Go ahead, Hermione," he replied.

"Why me, Harry?"

"Huh?"

Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

"Why did you choose me, of anyone else in Hogwarts, to be your best friend? Why did you jump onto that troll for me in first year?" She gave him a smile. "Why did you kiss my cheek when I was petrified and you thought I was unaware of what was going on around me?"

Harry stared in slight shock. He hadn't known that Hermione knew about that. Back in second year, Harry had paid a visit to Hermione in the hospital wing after she had been petrified. He hadn't been entirely sure what made him do it, but he had kissed Hermione's cheek because he remembered reading in a fairytale book as a child that the heroine is woken from an enchanted sleep by a kiss from the hero. Harry, being twelve at the time, hadn't thought about the story as a romantic one or that the kiss was traditionally on the lips; he'd just hoped at the time that maybe the rules of the fairytale story would apply.

"Well, I-" Harry fumbled over what to say. He'd never been particularly good at talking about how he felt. Even at a mental eighteen years of age, he still couldn't get his mind around how to really talk about things like that. "Oh, look, we're here!" he exclaimed, happy for the change of topic.

Hermione, though disappointed by Harry's lack of response, decided to let things be; prying too much was not good for a friendship and Hermione had no intention of risking hers with Harry.

The two friends set off to explore the village together. Harry was making some intense observations; he really was right, he thought, Hogsmeade was rather lacking. Harry remembered something he had read in one of the books he had bought about the Potter family.

"…_In 1792, Gordian Potter and Branche Longbottom began a campaign to encourage businesses in the magical world to expand. Together, the two men invested in the development of many of the most well-known companies around, such as the Nimbus Broom Company and the Whizzo Chocolate Company (the manufacturers of Chocolate Frogs)…Their partnership was such a success, that the Potter and Longbottom families formed an alliance; an alliance that is still believed to be in existence…_"

As the meeting at the Three Broomsticks drew ever closer, Harry decided it was time to renew the Potter-Longbottom alliance.

* * *

**Author's Note: 'Branche' is Danish for '****industry****,' so I felt it was a fitting name. I was originally looking up words that mean "business" when I found the name, but this worked just as well.**

**(Did anyone know that 'business' is the collective noun for a group of ferrets?) **

**I named the company that makes Chocolate Frogs the Whizzo Company as an allusion to the Crunchy Frog skit from Monty Python (I felt it was fitting as Whizzo produced such candies as Crunchy Frog, Cockroach Cluster, Anthrax Ripple, Ram's Bladder Cut, and the ever popular Spring Surprise – "When you pop it in your mouth, steel bolts spring out and plunge straight through both cheeks").**

**Also, I need some reader opinion. I'm not exactly sure if I should have Harry still participate in the Triwizard as someone suggested that I have Ron be the fourth 'champion' instead. I remember that happening only in 'Harry Potter and the Champion's Champion' which is absolutely hysterical. That ****DriftWood1965**** is an excellent writer.**

**There are a great number of bashing-fic writers that have served as inspiration for this and future stories of mine. If you go onto my profile page and check out the community I founded (Harry is the Man: All the Best of Bashing Fics) you will be able to see everything that has contributed to this fic.**

**Also, that excerpt that Professor Babbling brings up in her class is from some sort of legend about Odin that I found when I looked up runes on Wikipedia.**


	10. Anything Goes In, Anything Goes Out

He's Not Dead Yet

**I do not own Harry Potter or Monty Python.**

…Fish, Bananas, Old Pajamas, Mutton, Beef, and Trout

The meeting at the Three Broomsticks proved to be quite enjoyable and Harry soon forgot all the troubles that came with Halloween. When Harry mentioned the Potter-Longbottom alliance to Neville, the boy's face broke into a broad smile.

"I was wondering if you would ever ask about that, Harry," he said. "The fact that you never brought it up before now had made me suspect you had no interest in reconfirming it."

"Neville," Harry replied, "until recently, I had no idea about the alliance. No one ever bothered to explain things like that to me."

Neville looked a little embarrassed.

"I guess I shouldn't have assumed you knew about it."

"Not your fault, Neville. No one's fault except Dumbledork's."

Everyone snickered. Lately, the student population had begun to feel a growing resentment and suspicion of the Headmaster.

"So, how exactly do we renew the alliance?" Harry asked. "We haven't covered that in my Magical Customs class."

The pure-bloods at the table all grinned. Blaise Zabini, who was part of the group that day, got up from his seat.

"Listen up, everyone!" he called out. "An Allegiance Pact is about to be confirmed!"

All heads turned in awe and a hush fell.

"Madam Rosmerta," Blaise continued, "We'll need wine, two small knives, and a halibut."

The buxom witch didn't need telling twice.

Harry was looking rather puzzled.

"A halibut?"

"You'll see," Daphne chuckled.

Madam Rosmerta came back with the requested items, looking very flustered but positively beaming. The fact that two heirs of Most Noble and Most Ancient Houses were going to swear allegiance in her pub was definitely good for business.

"Right," Blaise continued as he poured two cups of red wine. "First, you each make a thin cut across your palms and then join hands."

Harry and Neville each picked up a knife and did as instructed.

"Neville, why don't you go first since you know the oath?" said Tracey.

"I, Neville Francis Longbottom, Heir to the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom, do hereby renew allegiance to my brother-in-arms, Harry James Potter, Heir to the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter, as was begun by our forefathers. I do so swear upon my magic that I will come to the aid of the Potter family should they ever call upon me or the rest of House Longbottom."

"I, Harry James Potter, Heir to the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter, do hereby renew allegiance to my brother-in-arms, Neville Francis Longbottom, Heir to the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom, as was begun by our forefathers. I do so swear upon my magic that I will come to the aid of the Longbottom family should they ever call upon me or the rest of House Potter."

There was a strange glow around their joined hands.

"This oath is recognized by magic and by those who bear witness this day," said Blaise.

The light flashed and then went out.

Blaise then instructed them to drink the wine, a symbol of camaraderie. Lastly, there was the part of the ritual which involved the halibut.

"This is ridiculous," Harry said. "Blaise, are you sure you're not having me on?"

"The fish-slapping is an ancient and important aspect of the tradition," Blaise declared looking scandalized that Harry would question something so important.

"I think the chaps who came up with _this_ tradition had a little too much to drink," said Fay.

Once the alliance ritual was complete, there was a tumult of applause. After the noise died down, the group returned to its discussion. The conversation eventually turned to the subject of Snape.

"He's really mad about Mr. Preston upstaging him," said Tracey. "He's forbidden anyone in Slytherin from going to the classes, but, as you know, that hasn't turned out so well for him."

"He's gotten really nasty," Daphne added. "And I mean more than usual. He said that anyone going to Mr. Preston's classes will have detention for a month."

"You leave old Snivelly to me," Harry replied with a smirk. "I've got a little something in store for him soon. Although, I _am_ surprised that he hasn't violated the restraining order since that first day."

"You know, Harry," Fay spoke up, "he already did violate it when he started screaming at you. You could've pressed charges then."

"True, but I didn't want to be too hasty. It's just so much fun to mess with him."

"He does tend to look rather blue in the face whenever you walk into the Great Hall," said Susan.

Soon they changed to more pleasant topics and Snape was all but completely forgotten.

* * *

However, the greasy-haired Potions master would not remain forgotten for long. Seeing as how Remus would be indisposed during the full moon, it stands to reason that a substitute would be needed. Of course, Snape made an attempt to snatch up that position; however, his plans were foiled when a smirking McGonagall arrived in the staff lounge with Mr. Stearns to announce that the American had agreed to substitute for Remus' classes.

Snape was furious.

"How do we even know if this man is competent?" Snape sneered, his eyes glinting maliciously.

"Do you really want to find out?" Stearns retorted calmly.

Snape gave another sneer at the challenge.

"Really, now," McGonagall huffed. "Severus, I have seen Mr. Stearns at the Defense Club and he is an excellent teacher."

Snape glared at Stearns who looked back. The two men began a silent staring contest in which Snape attempted a Legilimency attack, only to find himself pushed back, rather forcefully, by one of the most superb mind-shields he had ever encountered.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't try to look inside my mind, sir," Stearns said. "Doesn't this school have a policy regarding Legilimency attacks?"

McGonagall was fuming.

"Severus! The rules state, quite clearly, that the use of Legilimency on students, co-workers, and invited guests is strictly forbidden."

Stearns glared at Snape; Preston had told him about the man's completely inept and unprofessional nature; now it was clear that the man was also hostile and belligerent. Stearns and Preston were planning on sending in a report to the School Board. A man like Snape should never be permitted to teach children.

Mr. Stearns turned out to be just as good a Defense professor as Remus. As a substitute, though, he decided to give the class a bit of variation in what they learned. While he did cover some of what they had been learning in Remus' class, Stearns decided to help the class with spellwork.

Much to the delight of the students, Mr. Stearns did not believe in assigning essays as regular homework; he did, however, point out that they should start doing independent studies in order to prepare for future classes.

Snape was being nastier than ever. The few Slytherin third-years who persisted in attending Mr. Preston's classes soon found themselves in detention. Harry was not amused and so it came to pass that a pranking was in order.

* * *

Everyone had seated themselves in the Great Hall for breakfast. It was the day of the Gryffindor-Slytherin match and, just like last time, it was pouring rain. Harry had suggested to Wood that the team put Impervius and Warming Charms on themselves. Wood was positively ecstatic by Harry's suggestion.

Harry was just helping himself to porridge when the doors of the Great Hall burst open. There was Snape; he looked incredibly purple in the face, much like an angry Uncle Vernon. Snape took a step forward and everyone laughed; Snape had somehow been pranked into doing a silly walk. He was goose-stepping all the way up to the staff table, which was very hard considering his heavy black robes were in the way. He then did a sort of odd skip, a backtracked step, and a forward aerial half-turn every alternate step.

No one had ever seen anything so funny happen to the overgrown dungeon-bat. A few people had to be taken to the hospital wing they were laughing so hard.

Snape was apoplectic. He turned to glare at a smugly grinning Harry and was just about to shout abuse at him and threaten to expel him when he remembered the restraining order. If he violated the order it would mean the Aurors would stop by for a visit; Snape gave a shudder. The last thing he needed was for Amelia Bones to get her hands on him; the woman would have no sympathy for him because she hated Death Eaters with a passion (especially if they got off). Snape did not want to think what Bones would do to him if she knew he was singularly responsible not only for the deaths of the Potters (as Amelia was James Potter's godsister) but also for the deaths of Bones' brother Edgar and his family. He knew he would probably suffer a fate worse than anything the Dark Lord could do to him if Bones ever found out that he had revealed the hiding place of Michael McKinnon, who was Amelia Bones' fiancé before the Dark Lord killed him. No, it would not do to violate that restraining order; things would go downhill very fast and Snape doubted that Dumbledore would be able to save his hide a second time.

Glaring at the laughing students, Snape made his way (with great difficulty) over to the staff table and tried to act as though there was nothing wrong.

Harry and the Gryffindor team, having finished breakfast, set off for the locker rooms. They changed quickly and were soon heading out. On their way, a group of well-wishers stopped them with applause and cheers; Harry was surprised to see Daphne and Tracey amongst them.

"Believe it or not, Harry," said Tracey, "We would actually prefer it if Gryffindor wins."

"There's no way we would be able to stand Malfoy if he won," Daphne added. "He's annoying enough as it is."

Hermione was also there; she pulled Harry in for a hug and all but demanded that he stay safe out there. Luna was there, too; she warned Harry to look out for Blibbering Humdingers as they are often attracted to places where there are high levels of anxiety and they cause people to become unfocused and prone to mistakes.

It was dark and thunderous when the teams made their way onto the Quidditch pitch; luckily, thanks to Harry's suggestion, the Gryffindors were relatively comfortable and dry while the Slytherins were soaked to the bones and looking utterly miserable. Flint and Wood shook hands (though it looked as though they were both trying to crush each other's fingers) and the players mounted their brooms.

"On my whistle," declared Madam Hooch as another round of thunder was heard. "Three, two, one!"

The whistle blared and they were off.

Harry looked around for the Snitch, immensely grateful that he no longer needed glasses; however, it didn't make the Snitch any more visible as the darkness of the storm loomed overhead like a vast ocean of steely-grey.

Then, he saw it.

About fifty feet below, at the base of one of the Slytherin goal posts, was the tiniest glint of gold. Harry quickly glanced back and saw Malfoy hovering behind him. Taking a sudden shot towards the ground, Harry plunged, Malfoy on his tail. Harry pulled up just before he hit the ground; Malfoy barely managed to jerk up in time to avoid crashing. Harry sped up and headed right for where the tiny Snitch was waiting. The Snitch appeared to have realized that it was about to be caught because it zoomed straight up. Harry followed.

The Snitch seemed to go higher and higher. Malfoy was still following him. Harry didn't want to think about how high up they were now. A flash of lightning, a peal of thunder. Harry was within mere inches of the Snitch. Even Malfoy had fallen behind, clearly terrified of the storm. Harry's fingers closed around the Snitch. Then, from out of nowhere, a blast of lightning struck and Harry was unseated from his Nimbus.

He fell. Down, down, faster and faster. He could hear the screams of the crowd below. Harry had to think fast; he had a funny feeling that old Dumbles wasn't going to save him. That's when it came to him. Harry wasn't sure how, but a spell appeared in his mind and he shouted it out.

"_Assurgo!_"

Suddenly, a wind swept up at his feet and he landed, unscathed, upon the ground. Staring up into the stands around him, Harry raised his hand to show the still-struggling Snitch.

"Harry Potter has caught the Snitch and performed a spectacular display of wandless magic!" Lee Jordan shouted to the roaring crowds. "Incredible! Never seen anything like this!"

Harry, still smiling, finally felt the drain on his energy from his little performance and collapsed, unconscious, on the field just as the rest of the team was rushing over to him.

* * *

"That was the most amazing thing I've ever seen!"

"I thought he was going to die."

"Don't be stupid. He's Harry Potter. Death's beyond him."

Harry heard the voices above him. Some were eager, others worried. Harry knew at once that he must be in the hospital wing; he'd slept in this particular bed often enough to know what it felt like. Harry groaned from how sore he felt and sat up.

"Harry!" Fred exclaimed. "How're you feeling?"

"Sore," Harry replied shortly.

"I'd expect you would be," Hermione said reprovingly. "I told you _not_ to try and get yourself killed. Honestly, it's like you have some sort of death wish. I was worried out of my mind that you would get hurt or worse-"

"Expelled?" Harry finished cheekily.

"Killed," Hermione corrected. "Harry, I can't stand the thought of losing you. Don't you ever scare me like that again."

"We won, didn't we?"

"That's beside the point. Really, this is ridiculous. Someone needs to change the rules for Quidditch matches. Playing in storms, especially like this one, is a good way to get people killed. And it nearly did today."

Harry looked bemused. True, he agreed with her that the rules needed to be changed, but he still would've done what he did. He knew how much the game mattered to everyone and he wasn't about to disappoint.

"Where's Wood?" Harry asked.

"Half-drunk and running around starkers," said George with a grin. "He was rather pleased that you snagged us a victory, Harry."

"By the way, Harry," said Angelina Johnson. "How did you do that thing? With the wind?"

"You were only a few feet from death," continued Katie Bell. "We thought you were done for."

"Honestly," said Harry, "I'm not sure myself. Hey, did someone get my Nimbus?"

Everyone suddenly looked awkward.

The news that his Nimbus had hit the Whomping Willow was almost as hard as the first time he got it. Harry knew that he could probably afford to buy a Firebolt for every person in Hogwarts and barely make a dent in his fortune, but still. His Nimbus had been his first real broom and it was hard to take this news a second time.

Harry was startled when the doors of the hospital wing opened to admit Sirius. Sirius was looking very worried.

"Harry, are you alright?" he asked.

A few of the people in the room looked at him uncomfortably; they were still not used to the idea of Sirius Black being innocent.

"I'm okay, Sirius," Harry replied. "How'd you know I was in here?"

"Bathsheba sent me an owl saying you had gotten struck by lightning and nearly fell to your death," Sirius said.

"You know Professor Babbling?"

Sirius suddenly looked awkward himself.

"Ahem, yes, from some time back. She sent me the message as your Head of House."

It was good to know that Professor Babbling was taking her role as Head of Gryffindor seriously. Harry doubted that Dumbledore was pleased about word getting out that a student had nearly been killed.

The doors swung open again and Dumbledore entered.

"Ah, Sirius," he said warmly. "It's nice to see you again. I was wondering if I could see you and Harry in my office-"

"Sod off," Sirius retorted sharply. "My godson is nearly killed and you have the nerve to strut in here and make demands of me?"

"Sirius, I merely wish to ask-"

"It's Lord Black, to you. Harry is going nowhere until he has recovered. I will not be meeting with you and neither will Harry unless it is strictly to do with academics. Now push off, you old fart."

Dumbledore was shocked. Never had he experienced such a dismissal. He glared at Sirius for a moment before turning to leave; it wouldn't be a good idea to further irritate the young Lord.

"Oh, and sir," Harry added, "Kindly return the things you stole from my vault. I would hate to have to send the Goblin Inquisition after you."

Dumbledore froze as the students gasped. He hadn't expected the Goblin Inquisition. He'd heard stories of people who'd been unfortunate enough to receive a visit from them and had no desire to experience it himself. But he couldn't let the Potter grimoire fall into Harry's hands; there would be no telling how powerful the boy would become with that kind of knowledge. If only Dumbledore himself could access the book, that kind of knowledge would be helpful in the protecting of the Greater Good. It was very troubling to be in this position.

Little did Dumbledore know that things were about to get worse for him.

* * *

Over the next few days, Dumbledore discovered that the castle itself seemed to have turned against him. None of the secret passageways would open for him, suits of armor tried to trip him as he passed, the ghosts had started giving him the silent-treatment, the portraits frequently glared at him and seemed to whisper behind his back (well, except for the portrait of the rude French knights that had somehow found its way into his office; said Frenchmen chose to make very loud and obnoxious comments as well as rude noises), and the gargoyle that guarded his office was often heard to growl whenever he approached. Even Fawkes seemed angry with him lately.

* * *

Things for Harry, however, were going far better by comparison.

Despite the fact that Madam Pomfrey insisted that Harry spend the rest of the weekend in the hospital wing, Harry was not deprived of company. The twins spent a good deal of time with him going over some new prank ideas they would use; they grinned wickedly when Harry suggested something involving Filch, a cactus, and a croquet mallet. Hermione made sure to come by; her original intent was to help Harry with homework, but she was surprised at how he just seemed to breeze straight through it with no difficulties, and the two ended up talking a good deal. Tracey, who turned out to have a love of cooking, stopped by with a basket of muffins; and Daphne, who accompanied her, gave Harry a quick kiss on the cheek and offered her congratulations for his victory. Luna was immensely helpful in keeping Harry's spirits up during the tedium of staying in the hospital wing; she told Harry a number of very interesting stories about her special creatures. Several other girls stopped by during the weekend, including Susan Bones and Fay Dunbar. A few of Harry's guy friends stopped by to make sure he was doing okay and to play some games and things to pass the time (though Madam Pomfrey threw Seamus and Dean out when they brought along an Exploding Snap set).

Finally, though she was reluctant to do so, Madam Pomfrey released Harry from the hospital wing on Sunday evening.

When Harry made his appearance in the Great Hall for dinner, there was a torrent of cheers. People were happily slapping him on the back and asking him how he did that strange bit of magic at the end.

Ron was less than cheerful. He sulked all the way through dinner and only managed about four helpings of food. While he was happy that Gryffindor won, he couldn't get over the fact that Harry had once more taken the spotlight. It was just so unfair!

Ginny was staring at Harry with undisguised lust. If she hadn't already desired Harry then she definitely did now. In the young redhead's mind, she was absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent certain that Harry Potter was her destined husband. After all, he had saved her from Vol-from You-Know-Who last year; what more evidence did she need?

Harry spent a nice quiet week of school (well, as quiet as things ever are at Hogwarts). Classes were more interesting than ever; Professor Vector had begun teaching them about Arithmantic patterns used to create sentience in otherwise inanimate objects while Professor Babbling had started them on Summoning Circles. Even Hagrid, who had no reason to be distressed as Harry had prevented the hippogriff incident, had stepped up his game; he had planned out his most recent lesson to involve some much more mild-mannered creatures, something for which Harry was truly grateful as he had no desire to see a repeat of the Blast-Ended Skrewts in fourth year.

* * *

Winter had soon descended upon Hogwarts. A thick blanket of snow covered the grounds and a frosty wind blew through the old castle. Christmas was approaching and soon most of the students would be off for the holidays.

It was the last Hogsmeade trip of the semester. Harry made his way down to the village with a large and cheerful group of friends (Harry wondered why he had never sought out more friends in the previous timeline when he had been so desperate for them during his childhood). Together, they entered the Three Broomsticks; it was certainly very festive. Clearly Christmas spirits were running high.

They were all just sitting down to butterbeers when Neville spoke up.

"Harry, isn't that your godfather?"

Harry looked over at where Neville was pointing and, sure enough, there was Sirius arm-in-arm with…Professor Babbling? The young blonde teacher was laughing merrily at something Sirius had just said to her and the man himself had a big goofy grin on his face.

"Remember what happened around this time in sixth year?" Babbling said.

Sirius' eyes lit up.

"James and I turned old Snivellus into a penguin and you taught me how to ice-skate," he replied. Sirius then noticed Harry, smiled at him and waved.

Harry waved back.

It was so odd seeing his godfather out doing normal things. Sirius was obviously on some kind of date with the Ancient Runes professor. Still, it was nice to see the man having fun; he deserved it after all those years in Azkaban.

* * *

While almost everyone in third year and above was down at Hogsmeade, two Ravenclaws had decided they would be celebrating their holidays a little differently. Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecombe were quietly following behind Luna, waiting until they had the little blonde trapped before they launched their attack.

They had just rounded a corner, intending to knock the younger girl unconscious and lock her in a broom closet like they had done last year; only to find that Luna wasn't there.

"Wait a minute," said Cho, puzzled, "This can't be right. This is the Charms corridor, but we _just_ came out of the wing off the Transfiguration classroom."

They looked around and saw, to their astonishment, that they were, indeed, in a completely different part of the castle.

"This can't possibly be right," Marietta replied.

"And where did Loony go?"

"Let's just get moving; this is creeping me out."

The two girls set off in the direction of Ravenclaw Tower only to find themselves down in the freezing dungeons. No matter which direction they went in, they always ended up in a completely different location than the one they wanted to be in. It wouldn't be until the very last day of school that either girl was able to get back to Ravenclaw Tower at all; and even then the door posed them a question that neither knew the answer to: "What is the capital of Assyria?" And they were stuck waiting outside until Luna, who was much more merciful than either of them could ever hope to be, answered that Assyria no longer has a capital as it is no longer an existing country but when it did exist it was Assur first and later Nineveh.

"But it's not even a riddle!" Cho had exclaimed angrily.

Luna shrugged and brushed by the two frustrated girls.

* * *

As it was the last day of school, Harry figured he needed to take a look through the Room of Hidden Things; it was time to collect the Diadem and maybe have a look at what else might be in there. Three times he paced outside the Room of Requirements; after the third time, the door appeared.

The room looked just like it had the last time, cluttered and incredible. Moving swiftly to where the Diadem was, Harry quickly pulled on his dragon-hide gloves so that he wouldn't get accidentally cursed by the Horcrux. Once he retrieved the ancestral artifact, Harry asked the room for a curse-resistant bag, which then appeared. After safely securing the Diadem in the bag, Harry began to take a look at the other contents of the room.

There was a set of old broomsticks that still seemed to be in good condition, an assortment of cloaks, numerous gems that had a strange quality about them, corked bottles with bizarre and obscure contents, a statue of the first Headmaster of Hogwarts, the broken Vanishing Cabinet, some very old weapons, and, of course, the mountains of books (Harry figured that if Hermione ever saw this it would be impossible to tear her away from the room for the next four years, or even longer).

Harry had eventually returned to the Room of Requirements to retrieve several things. He collected the valuable jewels and decided to store them at Gringotts until he decided what to do with them; he had read about certain magical properties in various types of gemstones and there was a chance that these particular jewels might prove useful. He retrieved the broomsticks (which he afterwards took to Madam Hooch who was delighted to finally have suitable replacements for the first year practice brooms) and then turned his attention to the books. It would take ages to sort through this collection of knowledge; but then he realized _Wait, duh, it's the Room of Requirement; I just need to ask it to organize all these books for me_.

No sooner had the thought entered his mind than the books all began to rise as the room changed into an enormous library. The books all zipped to the shelves that were organized firstly by subject and then alphabetically.

"Well, that's handy," Harry said aloud.

* * *

That evening, everyone loaded up their things and set out for the carriages. Harry spent an enjoyable ride on the Hogwarts Express, laughing and playing games with his friends; a certain ginger-haired ex-friend was not invited.

When the train pulled in at King's Cross, Harry immediately noticed Sirius and Remus waiting for him (Harry and Sirius had invited Remus to join them for Christmas). As Harry got his things and headed over to meet them, he was accosted by Mrs. Weasley who then grabbed him in a hug.

"Hello, Harry dear," she said.

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley," Harry greeted, trying to refrain from wincing.

"I had no idea you were leaving Hogwarts for Christmas. You are, of course, more than welcome to come by The Burrow, if you wish."

"Thank you for the invitation, Mrs. Weasley, but I will be spending a great deal of time with my godfather. You see, he's only been a free man since the end of summer…"

"Oh, of course, dear. You both may stop by any time."

What was with the woman? Couldn't she take a hint that he already had plans?

"I am spending Christmas at Potter Manor," Harry explained calmly. "It's the ancestral home of my family and I want to get better acquainted with it."

"Of course, Harry dear. Just remember, our door is always open."

Finally, Mrs. Weasley departed and Harry was able to meet up with the two Marauders. Sirius, of course, had to tease Harry mercilessly as they headed out. Sirius had decided they would travel to Potter Manor in the new car that he had bought; the old dog still loved many Muggle things, including bright red Ferraris.

"Sirius," Harry said, "you _do_ have a Driver's License, right?"

Sirius' eyes began to dart shiftily.

Harry gave a sigh.

"Oh, before we head to Potter Manor, we need to take the Horcruxes in to Gringotts," Harry stated.

"Good idea."

"What Horcruxes?" Remus inquired.

"You didn't tell him, Padfoot?"

"I thought _you_ were going to do it!"

"What _Horcruxes_?"

Harry sighed again.

"Alright. This will probably take a while."

One explanation to Remus about Voldemort's Horcruxes later, the three arrived at Gringotts and presented the locket and diadem to Director Ragnok. Naturally, Ragnok was outraged that someone had created such an evil work of magic and encased it inside historical treasures. Harry went on to explain the same things to Ragnok that he had to Remus and also his 'hypothesis' that another Horcrux 'might' be hidden in the vault of a Death Eater; Harry suggested they check Bellatrix Lestrange's vault first.

The goblins told Harry it would take a few months for the necessary procedure to be set up to exorcise the objects; none of the goblins had any wish to destroy such valuable artefacts. Harry also mentioned that he believed there was one other Horcrux out there; he then explained that he knew that Voldemort had stolen a ring from Morfin Gaunt and likely made it into a Horcrux; he then pointed out that the Gaunt shack was possibly where Voldemort had hidden it and that it would assuredly have curses or something to protect it if that was the case. Harry also chose to mention that he 'suspected' a fragment of Voldemort's soul was lodged inside his head; of course, the goblins were only too willing to check for him (only to be startled and horrified when his 'theory' was proven true).

When Harry left Gringotts that day, he was unaware of just how much respect he had earned; both from already destroying one Horcrux, and for identifying and capturing several others. It was a few days later that Hufflepuff's Cup was discovered in the Lestrange vault.

* * *

**Author's Note****: I was a little unsure of what to do with Cho and Marietta. My first thought was to have them run into a spine-chilling, giant, electric penguin; but I decided to save that for the Triwizard Tournament. I'm also thinking of having the Death Eater's go up against the Killer Rabbit. **

**Thanks to my loyal readers. I hope to update soon. My decision to have Sirius paired with Professor Babbling was actually spur-of-the-moment; I had originally planned to have Sirius with Hestia Jones, but I wasn't exactly sure how to characterize her and I like what I did with Babbling.**

**Yes, Harry has finally started taking care of the Horcruxes. I wanted to hold it off for a while so I could fit in some stuff I had already written for the fic. **

**Sorry there wasn't as much Monty Python in this as usual, but I finally fit in the Silly Walk. **

**Thank you all, please review.**


	11. I May Be an Idiot, But I'm No Fool

He's Not Dead Yet

**Ah, the Christmas chapter. Who doesn't love Christmas? (Well, apart from people of other faiths or beliefs). **

**Anyways, I don't own Harry Potter or any Monty Python humor.**

I May Be an Idiot, But I'm No Fool

When Harry first caught sight of Potter Manor, he almost thought he was hallucinating. It wasn't so much a house or even a mansion as it was a small castle; it had turrets and fortifications and even a moat.

"When I said the Potters are an old family, I wasn't kidding around," Sirius said. "Why else would the Blacks have been content to marry off my great-aunt to your granddad?"

The castle, despite being rather imposing, was not dark and eerie like the stereotypical ones; it was built out of brown stone that lent an earthy quality to the design; the vines of ivy that crept up the walls had varying shades of flowers that bloomed despite the frigid weather. Majestic flags of royal purple and rich scarlet rippled in the wind from atop the tower roofs.

At the approach of the car, a stone bridge rose from the moat to allow them access. The wrought-iron gate in front of the entrance swung open to admit them to a large courtyard.

Sirius and Remus then led Harry to the main door; it looked about as large as the door to the Great Hall at Hogwarts. With a trembling hand, Harry reached for the doorknob and turned.

What opened up before him was a grand foyer; the walls were paneled with fine wood and decorated with family portraits; from the ceiling hung golden chandeliers that let off a warm glow. Suddenly, the stillness of the air was broken by a delighted, high-pitched voice.

"Master Harry Potter is home!"

Harry looked down and saw a very young house-elf. A few moments later, there was a popping noise as several other elves appeared. Harry noticed that the Potter elves wore uniforms that were clearly sown from various scraps of fabric with a copy of the Potter crest attached to the front.

The elves happily introduced themselves. The youngest one, that had greeted him so cheerily before, was named Polly; there were two senior elves named Mitsy and Simmy; and the remaining four elves were Ellis, Wadsworth, Koots, and Shelley. The elves also seemed happy that 'Mister Siri' and 'Mister Remmy' had come back.

It was clear that the portraits of James and Lily Potter had been giving the house-elves instructions regarding fixing up the manor; apparently, the manor had gotten a little run-down since it was closed up, but James and Lily's portraits had passed along orders to start getting the house ready for when Harry came; some parts, however, were still in need of refurbishing and the elves needed direct instructions from 'Master Harry' about what to do.

It seemed the manor was even bigger on the inside than it was on the outside; a person could spend years in the place and still not see everything. The library was at least twice the size of the Hogwarts one (Harry chuckled when he thought of how Hermione would react when she saw it), there was a dining room that looked as though it could seat about fifty or more, a grand ballroom, a minor ballroom, there were countless bedrooms, dozens of sitting rooms and studies, an owlery, about ten portrait galleries, a conservatory, a music room, a studio for the arts, three potions labs, a room for documentation of works (example: if a family member wished to transcribe something like a book, they would go into the room and several Dicta-Quills would take down everything depending on how many copies of the work were needed), a root cellar where one of Harry's ancestors had experimented with herbal wines and tonics, a medieval sanctuary where the Potters had conducted private wedding ceremonies, a card room, a billiard room, a room that had been sealed shut with the instruction that it wouldn't open unless the Potter family died off (which Harry had no intention of permitting), a room dedicated to astronomy, a room for alchemy, a room that had clearly been used as a classroom for Potter children before they went off to Hogwarts, and all this was just in the main part of the castle.

Then there was an entirely different wing of the manor. This wing had clearly belonged to the Potter women, as evidenced by the clearly feminine style of the surroundings and the portraits of Potter ladies. The women in the portraits positively cooed over Harry, except for a few who told him to stand up straight or to fix his hair. Then there was the portrait of his grandmother, Dorea Potter nee Black.

"Is that my grandson?!" she exclaimed with delight. "Is that little Harry?! Turn around, lad, so I can get a good look at you."

Harry also learned that it wasn't just Potter women whose portraits resided in the Ladies' Wing; it seems that Harry's grandmother was very fond of her three cousins (Callidora, Cedrella, and Charis) and had paintings of them in her room. Harry had never really given much thought to how closely he was related to other pure-blood families; he knew that Mr. Weasley's mother had been a Black because of when Sirius showed him the family tree at Grimmauld Place, but he hadn't really noticed that Cedrella's older sister, Callidora, was the great-grandmother of Neville Longbottom; nor, indeed, had it struck Harry that Mr. Weasley and Barty Crouch Sr. were first-cousins because Cedrella's younger sister, Charis, had been Mr. Crouch's mother. What occurred to Harry after his conversation with the portraits of the daughters of the House of Black was that pure-bloods really, _really_ needed to stop inter-marrying all the time.

Harry also learned that Cedrella was the reason why people fear the Weasley matriarchs. It happened that Harry mentioned his slightly strained relationship with the Weasley family.

"I certainly hope Arthur didn't do anything to offend you," Cedrella said. "Merlin knows he was not the brightest of my sons, but he means well."

"Actually, it was his wife and the two youngest," Harry replied.

"Oh," she said with a note of disdain. "I knew that Molly Prewett girl was bad news. She spoiled my granddaughter rotten and stifled the boys with her overbearing attitude."

"Well, it turns out that she arranged an illegal marriage contract between me and her daughter."

"What?! Someone get my portrait to The Burrow! I want to have a few words with that harridan! Please tell me the others aren't so bad."

"Well, Ron was pretty much pretending to be my friend in order to spy on me and try to get a chance in the spotlight."

Cedrella was shaking her head in disappointment.

"I always hoped the boy would grow up. He showed such promise when he was little; he even got his chess-playing skills from _me_. Maybe something came loose when I once saw little Freddy accidentally drop the boy on his head."

"That explains _so_ much," Harry muttered.

Once the full extent of the crimes committed by Molly, Ginevra, and Ronald was revealed, Cedrella's eyes narrowed. Just the thought of what Cedrella said she wanted to do to the three traitorous Weasleys, mixed with a tone that was a cross between disappointed and homicidal, terrified Harry more than the sound of one of Molly Weasley's howlers. It was plainly clear to Harry which Weasley matron was the real power to be reckoned with.

* * *

A few days later, at a rather upscale home in Crawley, there was a knock at the door. Emma Granger, the lady of the house, answered it.

"Dan," she said as she reentered the living room.

"Yes, Emma?" Dan replied.

"There's a man at the door with a moustache."

"Tell him I already got one."

Emma gave her husband a slight thwack over the head.

"Alright, alright, what does he want?"

"He says do we want to buy some wards."

"Wards?"

"Yes."

"What does he mean 'wards'?"

"Wards. You know, force-fields, protective devices, defense shields."

"Oh, wards, I thought you said 'bacon.'"

Mrs. Granger gave her husband another thwack.

"Alright, alright, can't let a man have his joke. Show him in."

After escorting the man into the living room, Emma called Hermione downstairs.

"We are the premier warding company of Great Britain," the salesman began. "We deal in all manner of household protections; from standard Anti-Theft wards to wards that curse intruders to a slow and painful death. We have Anti-Apparition wards which prevent people from simply appearing in your home. We have alarm wards that let off warnings to whomever they are keyed to. We are even developing a new set of wards that will eliminate any marked Death Eaters who try and gain entry."

"Any marked what?" Dan Granger inquired.

"The followers of Voldemort; he's the evil wizard that Harry defeated as a baby," Hermione informed her parents.

"Indeed," the salesman interjected, "Mr. Potter has managed to get our company permission from the DMLE to inspect marked Death Eaters so we can develop wards to keep them out of places. As your family is non-magical with a magical child, you would be prime targets for the Death Eaters should they ever escape from Azkaban. As I mentioned, the wards are still in development and we should have them finished in a month or so. As you are friends of Mr. Potter, you will be the first on the list of recipients of these wards should you so desire."

"I think it's safe to say we will take you up on that," Dan stated.

"The wards your daughter was most interested in were the Anti-Trace wards," the salesman added. "Those wards will allow her to practice magic within this house without getting in trouble with the Ministry."

Dan and Emma shared a delighted look; they would finally be able to see what their daughter had learned from that school.

"I took the liberty of outlining which wards I felt were best," Hermione said as she pulled out a list.

Once the wards-salesman left, Hermione then turned to her parents again.

"Oh, Mum, Dad, I also wanted to let you know that my friend Harry invited us over for Christmas dinner," she said. "Do you think we could?"

"Well, you've told us nothing but good things about this Harry person," Emma replied. She was so happy that her daughter had finally made friends and, from the look on Hermione's face, it seemed like this 'Harry' was something a little bit more. "What do you think, Dan?"

"Where is this place?" Dan said.

"Well, Harry didn't give me the location," said Hermione. "But he sent me this." She pulled out a rather nice-looking pocket watch. "He says it's a portkey and it will take us straight to Potter Manor at 5:00pm on Christmas Day."

Dan and Emma were startled by the mention of 'manor' but dismissed it.

"Well, I don't see anything wrong with spending time with your friends for Christmas," said Dan. _It will also get us out of going to my sister's Christmas party, thank God_.

Hermione smiled and hugged her dad.

* * *

Harry was having the time of his life. He was currently in the main sitting room of his family's ancestral manor/castle and talking with his godfather, adopted uncle, and his parents' portraits (which had been set above the grand fireplace). They had made big plans for this holiday. Christmas would see a wonderful evening with friends and family (Sirius had even invited the Tonks family, whom he'd reinstated into the Black family after kicking out Bellatrix; the Malfoys were on a probation and Sirius had already drawn up his will with a clause that if he should suffer an untimely fate, all debts owed to the Blacks by the Malfoys must be paid and the marriage between Lucius and Narcissa annulled).

The goblins had sent word to Harry that they were fully investigating the Horcrux matter and that one of their top Curse-Breakers would be called in. As for the matter of Dumbledore…well, the goblins told Harry that he would soon be getting a personal visit from certain Gringotts representatives.

Sirius had suggested that Harry throw a New Year's/Homecoming ball. Harry had winced at the idea as he had very unsatisfactory memories of the last time he'd been to a ball; but Sirius had insisted it would be a good way to make connections and build up alliances.

On Christmas Eve, Sirius took Harry over to the nearby parish, St. Loony Up-the-Cream-Bun-and-Jam, for the midnight service and the Lessons and Carols. Remus had to stay behind because it was full-moon; luckily, Sirius was fairly good at potions and was able to get Remus his Wolfsbane.

* * *

It was a beautiful Christmas morning. Sunlight reflected off the snow and ice, creating an effect of millions of glittering diamonds. It was the first time Harry had ever had Christmas at home with real family. The elves had decorated the hallways with garlands and wreaths and even the portraits seemed to be in a festive mood; Harry noticed that a painting of a group of rather rowdy Potter men in Quidditch uniforms showed its subjects singing and drinking merrily.

Harry was, quite understandably, pleased when he saw that Sirius' gift to him was a Firebolt; it actually meant a great deal more to him that his godfather could give it to him in person this time.

Harry's Christmas wasn't the only good one. Up and down the country, several people were receiving letters that certainly made their holidays. Each of these letters came from Gringotts Bank, informing the recipients that they now had sizeable bank accounts thanks to Harry Potter's distribution of the money earned from the basilisk carcass to those who were affected by the creature. Needless to say, there was much rejoicing.

One family, however, saw the letter they received in a different way; or, at least, certain members did.

Arthur, the twins, and Percy all saw the large amount of money as a blessing that would alleviate the family's hard times. Molly and Ginny, on the other hand, saw the money as evidence that Harry had singled out their family as one to which he wanted to belong; specifically, that he would be easily convinced into marrying Ginny; after all, what boy gives up that much money to a girl unless he has a romantic interest in her? Ron, however, saw the letter as an act of betrayal; after all, _he_ had gone down there with Harry; where was _his_ enormous bank account? Ron had a few choice words to give to Harry the next time he saw him.

Molly spent the next few days in an unassailably cheerful mood; she didn't even reprimand the twins when they were testing out some prank items (surely Hell must have frozen over!). Unbeknownst to anyone else, the Weasley mother was quietly going over in her head all the details for when Harry and Ginny would get married.

Ginny felt like all her dreams were coming true. Harry, _her_ Harry, had just given her a fortune. Sure, the letter _said_ that it was just a reimbursement for the suffering she was put through last year; but Ginny knew better. She just knew that it was Harry's subtle way of saying he wanted to take care of her; which, in Ginny's head, translated into meaning he wanted to marry her and live happily ever after.

It also happened that the twins had received a personal gift from Harry. The brightly-wrapped box that had arrived at their bedroom window contained an assortment of Muggle pranks (meaning they had no magical signature that could be traced) and a book about how to open your own business.

"How do you think he knew, Gred?"

"I don't know, Forge. Maybe being the son of a Marauder gives you the Sight?"

"Well, whatever it is, our dear Harrikins is deserving of our gratitude."

"True, my uglier twin. This book and these pranks will be perfect for when we start working on our shop."

"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes will be the greatest prank franchise ever."

The twins weren't the only ones to receive a personal gift from Harry, though. Arthur had been surprised to see a rather large package waiting for him on Christmas morning. Once he had unwrapped it, he found, to his utter delight, that is was a portrait of his dearly-departed mother whom he missed terribly. In the note Harry had sent with the gift it explained how he had found the original portrait at Potter Manor and had had a copy made as the portrait-Cedrella Weasley seemed most eager to have a way to access The Burrow. Finally, Arthur had a way to speak to his beloved mother again; even if it wasn't really her, it was the closest thing he could get. Arthur couldn't understand why Molly disliked the portrait, and he just tuned her out when she complained that Cedrella glared at her when Arthur wasn't looking.

* * *

Christmas dinner was a thoroughly enjoyable affair at Potter Manor. The Tonks family, the Grangers, the Lovegoods, Professor Babbling, and Neville Longbottom and his grandmother were all invited. Harry had considered including more guests, but felt that he should try to keep this rather informal Christmas dinner to just the people he was closest with.

Madam Longbottom was quite pleased to meet Harry, especially since he and Neville had reconfirmed the Potter-Longbottom Alliance.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger were simply awed at the fact that their little girl was best friends with a Lord (well, soon-to-be Lord, at any rate).

While the adults all moved to a separate living room for drinks, the four Hogwarts students were hanging out. Harry had given Hermione a copy of one of the books he had found on ritual magic in the family library and a golden pendant in the shape of her initials with her birthstone set into it; he had given Luna a fine silver bracelet with charms on it shaped like a rabbit (her favorite animal and Patronus), an eagle, a dirigible plum, and a butterbeer cap (to keep away the nargles) and a box of her favorite candies, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans; and he gave Neville a cutting of an extremely rare plant known as a "Legendary Walking Tree of Dahomey" that he had found in the Potter greenhouse and a book on Floraloqus (the ability to talk to plants).

"I have something I'd like to talk to you all about," Harry announced after the gifts were exchanged.

His three companions all turned to him.

"I've been meaning to discuss this for some time," he continued. "I've been hoping to make some ventures and I need some input from trustworthy people. As you three are the people I trust the most, I wanted your opinions before I include anyone else in this discussion."

His three friends smiled encouragingly.

"Go on, Harry," said Neville. "We're all with you."

"Thanks, Neville. I have discovered that I am the owner of quite a number of business venues, including Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade."

Hermione and Neville exchanged a surprised look, while Luna just seemed impassive.

"I am sure you have all noticed that aside from Honeydukes, Zonko's, and a few small shops, there's not a lot to interest one in Hogsmeade once you've been there a few times. I was thinking we could bring in more businesses or recreational sites."

"Oh, Harry, that's a great idea," said Hermione.

"And there will be more jobs available," said Luna dreamily. "Not many people notice, but there aren't many jobs in the magical world compared to the Muggle one. And even then, many people won't hire someone if they're Muggle-born."

Hermione looked aghast.

"What do you mean, Luna?"

"Oh, it's part of a pure-blood supremacist agenda to keep Muggle-borns from staying in the magical community. Daddy thinks that it's all part of a conspiracy involving the Ministry, the infamous Piranha Brothers, Luigi Vercotti, Eggs Diamond and his Chicken Gang, and the Judean People's Front."

There was a moment of silence before Harry continued.

"Point taken, Luna," he said. "I've also been looking into making a deal with some Japanese technomancers and some Muggle technology corporation called 'Apple.' I was thinking of opening a new industry that will bring magically enhanced technology into the wizarding world. After all, the only real Muggle technology that witches and wizards have is the Wizarding Wireless, and that operates directly out of Hogsmeade." Here, he turned to Hermione. "That book I gave you about ritual magic is actually going to be very useful soon, Hermione. You see, I recently came across some very interesting gemstones." He thought back to the jewels he had found in the Room of Requirements. "When I brought them in to Gringotts, the goblins informed me that they are rare Power Gems that can be used in various rituals that may help us to achieve the magical technology goal."

"Wow, Harry," said Hermione, "You really seem to have given all this a great deal of thought."

"What can I say? I'm a Potter. Anything else before the meeting adjourns?"

"I do," said Neville.

"The Floor recognizes Neville Francis Longbottom."

Neville grinned amusedly at Harry.

"What we need is a sort of Board Group," he said. "People from each of the different Houses, social circles, and backgrounds to help us know just how to market this to customers, because there will always be some who will be opposed to advancement and some who will wholeheartedly embrace change. The Board will help us work out our plans and tell us the important details of just how to sell our ideas."

"Excellent point, Neville. Any other business?"

"I have something to say," Luna spoke up.

"Go ahead, Luna."

"Harry, when are you going to claim your Lordships and tell people that you are the Heir of the Founders?"

Everyone stared at her in shock.

"Luna, how did you know that?" Harry asked.

"Was I not supposed to know?"

"Well, I never exactly told you."

"Oh, you didn't have to. Just like you didn't have to tell me you are here from the future and on a mission from the Ministry of Death."

The stares widened.

"Luna, how do you know about the Ministry of Death?"

"Doesn't everyone?"

The three others shook their heads.

"Oh, I met the chaps from the Ministry of Death," she said. "They're very funny people. When my mum's experimental spell backfired, some fellow named Mr. Leslie Ames showed up and said that it was her time to go. He was very polite about it and let me say goodbye to her. He was a little odd, though. At first he told us that our house had been chosen as the venue for the third-test against the West Indies."

Harry gave a quick shake of his head to snap himself back to the present.

"But, how exactly did you know that stuff about me?"

"Oh, I've always been able to see things about people," she explained. "That's why the other Ravenclaws don't like me very much. They seem to find it unnerving that I know so many things about them, though I can't imagine why."

"Back to the other subject," said Hermione. "Harry, what is this about you being from the future?"

Harry sighed.

"I knew I would have to talk about this with you sooner or later," he replied.

_One explanation later…_

"So, I led a group of students in a rebellion against a couple of maniacal Death Eaters?" asked Neville.

"Yep. I also personally requested that you destroy one of Voldemort's Horcruxes," Harry stated. "I knew that if there was anyone I could trust with something like that, it would be you, Neville."

Neville felt a surge of confidence at those words.

"Did I really end up with Ron?" Hermione asked with a note of disgust.

"Well, yes," Harry replied.

"How could I have done something so ridiculous? He and I argue all the time, he constantly bullies and insults me, he talks bad about me for loving to learn and then has the nerve to ask me to do his homework for him…Really, what could have been going on in my head?"

"I think he may have doused you with love potions like Ginny did to me."

Hermione looked horrified.

"That little monster."

Luna tilted her head to the side. Who was Hermione calling a monster, Ron or Ginny? She then shrugged and figured it must be both.

"And it only got worse from there," Harry continued.

He then explained what the MoD had shown him about the future. Hermione looked as though she would be ill, Neville looked furious, and even Luna had an expression of discomfit.

"That's why I came back," Harry concluded. "So many people had suffered and died because of me. Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Fred, Dobby…" He trailed off; then he looked thoughtful. He wondered where Dobby was right now.

There was a sudden CRACK!

"I is here, Master Harry Potter sir!" Dobby exclaimed.

"Dobby!" Harry exclaimed. "Wha-How?"

"Dobby is coming when Master Harry Potter sir is wanting to see him. He always comes when Master calls."

"Master?"

Dobby looked slightly sheepish.

"When you is helping Dobby become free of his old masters, Dobby is bonding to you. Dobby hopes that Master Harry Potter sir is not angry."

"No, Dobby, it's all right."

Hermione looked like she was about to say something, but Harry quickly cut off the presumed lecture on Elf Rights.

"Hermione, I looked into it," he explained. "House-elves need to be bonded to a magical family so that they can control their magic. If an elf doesn't bond, it causes them to lose control or even make their health gradually degenerate until they die. I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

Dobby looked up at Harry Potter with a glowing pride. Hermione looked taken-aback; Harry's reaction had made her suspect that her future self must have gone off about 'slavery' of house-elves in Harry's old timeline. Neville was just looking confused while Luna seemed to be humming placidly as if what had just happened was no less normal a conversation than discussing the weather.

"Dobby," Harry continued, "It would be a great privilege if you would join the Potter family house-elves."

Dobby burst into happy tears.

"Every elf's dream is to be working for the Potter family," he wailed. "The Potters is the oldest and kindest of all magical families, sir."

Harry blinked in surprise. Was he really that admired by house-elves? Right, stupid question. Harry called for Mitsy and Simmy and informed them that Dobby was now a house-elf to the Potter family; when Harry mentioned that Dobby had saved his life, the two elder elves gladly welcomed the newest addition to the household. After Mitsy and Simmy left with Dobby, to introduce him to the other elves and get him used to Potter Manor, Harry returned to his conversation with his friends.

"Well," Harry said after a prolonged silence, "Anyway. Too many people died for me last time, and I am not going to let that happen again. And what I saw of the future was too awful to permit to happen."

"It certainly was," said Luna. "Imagine, naming your child 'Albus Severus Potter.' I think you must have gotten a case of wrackspurts from Ginevra."

Harry winced. That had been something that had annoyed him about what he had seen of his future-self. Really? Albus Severus Potter? He must have been under the influence of _something_ when he named his child that.

The conversation went on for a while, with Harry mentioning the New Year's/Homecoming ball he was throwing. All too soon, it seemed, the adults came in to say it was time to go. As Harry helped her with her jacket, Hermione looked up to notice that she and Harry were standing underneath mistletoe.

"Um, Harry," she said. "Look up."

Harry glanced up to see the plant that had caused so much mischief for him in the past.

"Mistletoe," he replied.

Hermione smirked.

"You _do_ know what tradition says about standing under mistletoe, right, Harry?"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck and shifted awkwardly until Hermione rolled her eyes and decided to take pity on him. She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him forward to capture her lips. Harry's mind went blank, as it had done the past handful of times he'd been kissed; however, this kiss was much better than either the one he got from Cho or the few he'd gotten from Ginny. Hermione's kiss was warm and soft; not possessive like Ginny or sloppy like Cho. As she pulled away, Harry stared at her, his mind still disengaged.

Suddenly, they were interrupted.

"Hm, it seems there are quite a few nargles in that mistletoe," said Luna.

Hermione wished Harry goodnight and walked off to where her parents were waiting with the portkey. Harry was still standing there watching her retreating form when Sirius put a godfatherly hand on his shoulder.

"She really is the brightest witch of her age," he said.

* * *

"Are our agents ready to go?" asked Director Ragnok.

"They are, sir," replied his assistant.

"Good." His face broke into a shark-like grin. "It is time for _our_ Christmas tradition."

It is a little-known fact that goblins have a tradition, every Christmas, involving the exacting of vengeance against someone who has wronged the bank or one of their valuable clients or even just someone they hated.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was sitting in his office, thinking. How had things gotten so out of hand lately? One minute he was on top of the world with everything going according to his plans, and the next…How had he lost so much control over his pawn – er, over Harry? Dumbledore began to think harder. The boy had been spending too much time with Miss Granger and students from other Houses; especially Slytherins. Slytherins were bound to give Harry dangerous ideas. Amelia Bones had also been sending Dumbledore frequent warnings (each containing not-so-subtle threats) that he'd better watch his step, because she'd have his arse in Azkaban at the first opportunity.

Dumbledore was just reaching for a sherbet lemon when the door to his office burst open. There, in the doorway, were three goblins in bright, red uniforms; each one was grinning broadly.

_Blimey_, Dumbledore thought, _I __**really**__ hadn't expected the Goblin Inquisition!_

* * *

Dolores Umbridge was currently sitting at her desk, no Christmas cheer in her heart. Ever since that damnable trial of Sirius Black, Amelia Bones had been doing a large number of investigations into respectable pure-bloods like herself. Needless to say, Dolores was not a happy witch. At the moment, she was processing files involving various cases that Cornelius would be trying in the near future.

"Hmm, Muggle-born wizard Gavin Entwhistle insisting upon a re-trial of his case involving his attack upon pure-blood wizard Jarvis Avery. He insists that Avery had attempted to use the Cruciatus Curse on him for his own amusement and that Enwhistle was merely acting in self-defense," she read. A nasty smile broke over the toad-woman's face. "Denied. I think a transfer from the Ministry holding-cell to Azkaban is just what this Mudblood needs to clean up his act."

Just as she was about to stamp the paper with a denial, the door to her office opened.

"Yes? Hello? I say, what are you…? No. No! AHHHHHH!"

* * *

The ballroom had been ornamented with holly and ivy; a few random bunches of mistletoe were set to trap an unwary couple; the gardens were decorated with fairy-lights. A large Christmas tree stood proudly in the center of the enormous dance floor, while several smaller ones stood off to the side. Musical instruments were enchanted to play Christmas carols at a tempo that was good for dancing. Harry thanked his lucky stars that his ancestors had thought to put an anti-slipping spell on the polished marble dance floor. From the ceiling came an enchanted snowfall.

If you walked into the grand ballroom at Potter Manor that New Year's Eve, you would think that half the wizarding world was in there. Harry had decided that something this formal meant that he needed to invite a number of people he hardly knew but would be good to be on decent terms with. For example, Harry had never thought he would ever invite Cornelius Fudge anywhere near him after what he did in the last timeline; however, if Harry hoped to get any progress made in the magical community, he needed connections.

"Minister," Harry greeted warmly, "Nice to see you again."

"Ah, hello, Harry," the Minister replied.

"I heard about the recent tragedy at the Ministry. I wish to offer my condolences."

"Ah, yes, it was so sudden. I never would've thought in my wildest imagination that my Senior Undersecretary would suffer so terrible a fate as being eaten by a giant blancmange."

A report had come out in _The Quibbler_ (which was quickly becoming much more popular than _The Prophet_) on Christmas Eve that Senior Undersecretary, Madam Umbridge, had been discovered to have been eaten by a killer blancmange from the planet Skyron in the galaxy of Andromeda. While _The Quibbler_ maintained that it was, indeed, a genuine blancmange, _The Prophet_ insisted that it was a wanted criminal named Riley, a notorious blancmange impersonator and cannibal, who was simply using the extra-terrestrial being excuse in order to allay suspicion.

Harry had to laugh when he first read the news of the Toad's death. It served the evil old bitch right.

Harry spent a very enjoyable evening getting to know people who would be highly important allies for when he began to make reforms. He also got to dance with a large number of very attractive young ladies (thanking his lucky stars again that Sirius knew how to dance and had taught him); although, most of those girls looked at him hungrily, as though they were ravenous lions and he were a piece of particularly enticing meat. However, there were a few girls other than Hermione and Luna who he actually enjoyed speaking and/or dancing with.

Harry had, of course, also invited his friends; though, the only Weasleys he invited were the twins and Percy because of his promise to introduce them to the Prewetts. Josiah commented that Fred and George were just like their uncles, which led to questions about what Gideon and Fabian were like as Mrs. Weasley never brought them up if she could avoid it (she claimed the subject was much too painful). Josiah also found himself in a conversation about Law and Finances with Percy; Percy walked away from that discussion with a smile that indicated he'd found his new role-model.

In addition to very important people and friends, Harry also invited many of his fellow students (mostly the ones from Defense Club) and professors (including his hired instructors). Harry had even invited Colin Creevey; Colin was, at Harry's suggestion, taking photographs of the event that were likely to end up in the next edition of _The Quibbler_ (Colin had, after the recovery of the basilisk, begun to sell his photos of goings-on at Hogwarts to Mr. Lovegood, who gave the boy full accreditation when the articles were published).

Mr. Preston and Mr. Stearns seemed to be enjoying themselves; Preston had brought along his girlfriend from back home (she was a tall, athletic-looking black woman with a bright smile and a 'don't mess with me' attitude) and Stearns was chatting with Lord Acton's grandsons about the various duels they had participated in; Harry's Magical Customs tutor, Dame Irene Stoat, had somehow ended up dancing with Professor Flitwick. The only two professors who were absent were Snape and Dumbledore; and yet, no one seemed to notice; or, at least, didn't seem to care.

* * *

Omake:

Bill Weasley was standing in a trench, overseeing some workers unearthing yet another tomb. He'd only had a few days off for Christmas, but he was happy to be out working as he loved his job.

That was when a familiar voice called out.

"Alright, Weasley, get up out of that trench."

Bill turned and saw the figure of one of his old rivals. He grinned.

"Just remember," said Bill. "I'm six-foot-five and I eat punks like you for breakfast."

"That doesn't bother me. Kastner!"

A bearded man in a grey suit came forward.

"Here, sir," Kastner said.

"Up."

Kastner jumped up to sit on the man's shoulders.

"Eleven-foot-three?" gasped Bill.

"I'm so tall!" Kastner exclaimed giddily. "I'm so tall!"

Bill pulled off his pith-helmet and narrowed his eyes.

"Danielle," Bill called over to a young woman who then promptly jumped onto his shoulders.

"Eleven-foot-six?" Bill's nemesis cried. "Damn you. Abdul!" They were joined by one of the native workers.

"Fifteen-foot-four?" said Bill. "Mustafa!"

"Nineteen-foot-three! Damn you!"

What then followed was a fight between the two, human pillars that led to much chaos at the dig-site. Bill was in the process of decking his rival when he was interrupted.

"Mr. Weasley," said the senior official. "There is a letter to you from Gringotts."

Bill excused himself from the scuffle to read the letter. Bill's eyes widened when he saw that it was sent straight from the Director. It seems Bill would be returning to Britain.

* * *

**Author's Note: This scene at the end was based on the Monty Python skit 'Archaeology Today.' **

**The scene with Dobby was added in because I felt that I needed to get that sorted out; and I thought, hey, why not have Dobby join Harry Potter at Christmas?!**

**Hoped you all like the chapter. Please review, but no flames.**


	12. Medium Sized Intermission

He's Not Dead Yet

**Just the mandatory chapter dedicated to what's going on in people's heads. I do not own Harry Potter or anything to do with Monty Python. **

**Just a reminder, don't take this story too seriously. It was written purely for the sake of humor and as a partial parody of the Harry/Harem fics. There is no reason to get worked up because Harry is going to have six wives; I know it would be ridiculous, and that's why I did it!**

**Oh, also, it will be made clear in this chapter who the girls Harry will end up with are.**

There Will Now Be a Medium-Sized Intermission

Albus Dumbledore was furious.

He'd just had the most miserable Christmas of his entire life; it was even worse than the one after his boyfr – after Gellert Grindelwald had left. He'd been abducted from the school by the Goblin Inquisition (amongst whose weapons were such diverse elements as fear, surprise, ruthless efficiency, and an almost fanatical devotion to Gringotts and a nice red uniform). The nasty little creatures had dragged him off to a Gringotts holding-cell and subjected him to such torments as "The Soft Cushions" and, Albus shuddered, "The Comfy Chair." Now, while those might not sound like they are too horrible, the goblins have their own, sinister twist to the torments that are just not acceptable for repetition in a T-rated story. Finally, Albus had been released once he had confessed to having stolen money and heirlooms from the Potter family; he had then been made to hand over everything he had stolen and pay back all the money, plus interest. It goes without saying that the Headmaster was no longer able to afford sherbet lemons.

Dumbledore needed to think of a way to get Harry back under his thumb. The boy seemed to have severed ties to some of the Weasleys; something that irked Dumbledore greatly as he needed young Ronald to spy on Harry and Ginevra was supposed to become the next Lady Potter. Using Severus to bully Harry into obedience was out as the Potions Master was one foul-up away from falling into the hands of Amelia Bones; and, as Albus knew just about everything Severus had done as a Death Eater, that would not end well.

* * *

Amelia Bones was of two minds.

One, she was delighted to have spent an enjoyable New Year's at Potter Manor for that wonderful ball; it had brought back such fond memories of happier times; and seeing Susan dancing with Harry Potter reminded her of when the two were little one-year-olds and had been so close. Amelia remembered how Lily had told her after a day of babysitting the two one-year-olds that Susan had given Harry a kiss on the cheek while they were playing together.

Secondly, though, she was angry that Dumbledork was still walking around free. Fudge said that the man still had too much political clout, too many people owed him favors or made excuses for what he'd done. The knowledge that a child-endangering lunatic like Albus too-many-names Dumbledore was in charge of the school that her niece attended had the Head of the DMLE in a right mood. She'd never fully trusted the old man; not even when she was an innocent first-year. She always felt there was a point when eccentricity becomes madness; for example, she found the Lovegood girl to be absolutely charming with her belief in strange and possibly fanciful creatures, but that was mere quirkiness and perfectly fine. Deliberately leaving a child with abusive relatives, disregarding the contents of a will, and permitting students in one's care to nearly be killed every year were certainly _not_ fine.

Amelia sat down at her desk and downed another sherry. Her thoughts turned back to another matter at hand. That blancmange that had eaten the Senior Undersecretary was still on the loose (though Amelia felt no one would mourn the Toad; everybody had hated her, even her allies). While it had been running around, the bizarre entity had turned several members of the Minister's Cabinet into Scotsmen who then left England for the highlands (though, Amelia felt it was a vast improvement to the government). Last she had heard, the blancmange was spotted playing tennis somewhere in Wimbledon and even the Muggles will notice if something like _that_ happens.

It wouldn't have been so troublesome if this was the first time a blancmange-related incident had happened. Back in the 1970s, a killer blancmange had turned a member of the Potter family into a Scotsman (the late Harold Potter for whom young Harry was named). Amelia only hoped that history wouldn't repeat itself and that the blancmange would continue to only go after the annoying, incompetent, or bigoted members of the Ministry that it had so far.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was not happy.

Ever since the beginning of term, things had gone horribly wrong. It turned out that Black wasn't out to kill Potter; he was, in fact, Potter's godfather. Worse still, Black had the power to ruin the Malfoy family if he wanted to. After the altercation on the train, Draco had written a letter to his father to complain; however, Lucius had responded by ordering Draco to watch himself around Potter; the Malfoys couldn't afford to get on the wrong side of Black. Despite what everyone believed, Draco was not a complete moron; he knew when his father said not to run his mouth off, it was not a request. The only upside to Draco's situation was that Potter and Weasley seemed to have had a bit of a falling out; that meant it was open season on the ginger-haired loser.

* * *

Molly Weasley was rather vexed.

Despite how happy she was that Ginny had received that money and the fact that the family's financial worries had been greatly alleviated, she had just read something that made her rather testy. Like everyone else in magical Britain, the Weasleys had started subscribing to _The Quibbler_; therefore, when news of the New Year's Ball at Potter Manor came out, she was more than a little annoyed. Fred, George, and Percy had all said they'd been invited to some sort of party and she had permitted them to go; not realizing that it was the one at Potter Manor. What Molly couldn't understand was why Harry hadn't invited the rest of the Weasley family. Ronald was his best friend and Ginny was going to be his wife (if Molly had anything to say about it). What's more, the boy hadn't responded to any of the invitations to The Burrow that she had sent.

Molly sat at the kitchen table and grumbled. She needed to help Ginevra in winning over Harry; perhaps a love potion, they'd worked for her when she set her sights on Arthur.

Molly glanced up to the portrait that stood grinning smugly down at her from over the mantelpiece. She had never gotten along well with her mother-in-law when she was alive; Cedrella had snapped at her for 'over-indulging' Ginny and accused her of smothering the boys. Molly huffed at that; what would a Slytherin know about how to raise children? And the woman had even had the audacity to tell _her_ children that being in a House other than Gryffindor was acceptable. The nerve of that woman!

Molly really didn't like that portrait, but Arthur had refused, point blank, to get rid of it and was even insulted that she had suggested such a thing. There are many things a man will do for his wife, but getting rid of a memento of his beloved mother is never one of them.

* * *

Neville Longbottom was both thrilled and befuddled.

A year ago, if you had told him he would one day be Harry Potter's best male friend, he would've thought you were mocking him. However, ever since the year began, Neville was becoming more and more confident; he had his own wand, his grades were improving, he had renewed the Potter-Longbottom Alliance, and his Gran was finally proud of him. Finding out that Harry Potter had come back from the future was what was so hard to get his mind around; not that he didn't trust Harry or approve of what he'd done, but it was rather incredible to believe. And then there were the business ventures Harry had suggested; Neville had actually surprised himself by just how much the idea intrigued him; perhaps he could even open up his own franchise of greenhouses?

The recent ball at Potter Manor had put Neville in high-spirits, too. Not only had he gotten to spend time amongst people who genuinely liked him, but he had also been introduced to the very pretty Hannah Abbott who hadn't even complained when he accidentally stepped on her toes while they were dancing.

Neville smiled to himself as he opened the book on plant-speaking Harry had given him. _Hmm, Learning the Secret Properties of Mind-Restoring Plants? That certainly sounds interesting._

* * *

Ron Wealsey was incensed.

His backstabbing traitor of a best friend just had to go and do _this_. It was bad enough that the bastard had given a fortune to his sister and not to him; but, now, to go and throw some stupid ball at his stupid manor house? It just wasn't fair!

Ron decided that, when they got back to school, he would tell Hermione what an arse Harry Potter really was. Hermione would then be grateful to him that he warned her against associating with a prat like Potter and probably do anything for him in gratitude.

Harry was getting really out-of-line. The git had even started hanging out with freaks like Loony Lovegood and that moron Longbottom; he even had dirty Slytherins around him. That was just not acceptable! Ron felt he really needed to knock some sense into his pig-headed idiot of a friend and finally get the message across that he wasn't better than everyone else.

After all, what were spies – er, best friends for?

* * *

Daphne Greengrass was rather dazed.

She had just spent a wonderful evening at the beautiful Potter Manor. She had even gotten to dance several times with the boy she was seriously crushing on. Daphne had never had much in the way of self-esteem problems or uncertainty; however, seeing how close Harry Potter was with Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood left her feeling very self-conscious. Even if she was the "Ice Queen of Slytherin" it didn't mean she really considered herself to be physically more attractive than any other girl; truth be told, Daphne didn't think any girl genuinely believed she was beautiful, no matter how many people said so. And yet, she couldn't help but feel special when Harry Potter danced with her; Granger and Lovegood didn't even seem to mind her being around; in fact, they were very welcoming.

Her parents, Lord Cyrus and Lady Amalthea Greengrass, had been absolutely taken with Harry's charm and were more than agreeable to a friendship between their families. Daphne felt rather ashamed of herself for thinking it, but she actually hoped her parents offered a betrothal agreement to him. There was no other boy she had ever met who captivated her as much as Harry James Potter.

The Greengrass heiress stared up at her bedroom ceiling and prayed that there was some way all this would work out in the end.

* * *

Tracey Davis was conflicted.

She knew it was wrong to like the boy that her best friend was crushing on, but she couldn't help it. Harry Potter was just that type of boy that had all the girls clambering over themselves to even have a chance with. He was all the things a pure-blood girl should look for in a potential husband (wealthy, influential, powerful, and famous); however, he was also what every girl _wanted_ in a guy (kind, friendly, courteous, compassionate, brave, reasonably intelligent-if a little slow on the uptake-, willing to defy the rules when they were wrong, always standing up for those he cares about, and, of course, easy on the eyes). Tracey knew that Daphne would probably be willing to share Harry if the two of them got together (after all, the two girls shared everything with each other; they were practically sisters); but Harry seemed too loyal a boy to even consider having more than one girlfriend.

That evening at Potter Manor had been so wonderful; not even her parents had been able to ruin it. Walter and Marissa Davis were not exactly known for their open-mindedness or consideration; it was lucky they did have an appreciation for power and wealth or Tracey would likely not have been able to attend the party at all. Tracey knew her chances of marrying for love were almost nil as her parents had been seriously considering arranging a betrothal contract with the Goyles, something that had reduced Tracey to tears when she heard about it. For the meantime, Tracey reassured herself that nothing had been finalized and there was still a chance that it wouldn't go through.

Tracey really hoped there was a solution for all this. In the meantime, she needed something to distract herself; she couldn't do any cooking to pass the time as the last time she had tried cooking to take her mind off Harry she had ended up accidentally making a giant blancmange that had somehow come to life and escaped. She had no desire to repeat that in a hurry.

* * *

Susan Bones was currently pacing around her bedroom.

She had just returned from a ball at Potter Manor and something was preventing her from sleeping. The auburn-haired Hufflepuff just couldn't understand what was going on. Usually, she was a calm, level-headed sort of girl (she had learned everything she knew from her Auntie Amelia); and yet she couldn't stop thinking about Harry James Potter. Like most girls in the magical community, Susan had once had a crush on the Boy-Who-Lived when she was a child (not a Ginny Weasley level of fanaticism, but she did have quite a good deal of admiration for the boy responsible for the downfall of the man who caused the death of almost her entire family); now, however, Susan couldn't help but get a warm feeling every time she thought of Harry Potter, Gryffindor third-year, protector of Hogwarts, and all-around decent guy.

Susan would never admit it, but she actually had started fancying Harry Potter last year; it was one of the reasons why she had told off Ernie for spreading those rumors about Harry being the Heir of Slytherin. The only reason why she hadn't sent him a Valentine's Day card last year was because she didn't want to embarrass either herself or Harry; besides, Lockhart's decision with those so-called "card-carrying cupids" was the most outlandish and stupid thing she had ever seen and she was loath to support something so ridiculous.

* * *

Fay Dunbar was uncertain.

She knew she was really starting to fancy Harry Potter; but she really shouldn't! Gryffindor girls lived by a code; they would _never_ attempt to steal another Gryffindor girl's boyfriend; and just about every girl in Gryffindor suspected that Harry was dating Hermione. Fay wanted to bang her head against the wall in frustration. Why did fate have to be so cruel as to make Harry Potter such a wonderful person? His only real flaw was his excessive nobility that often led him to make stupidly honorable decisions (and even then, such a trait would typically be admired in a hero); Fay, herself, often thought more with her heart than her head.

Fay knew she would have to figure out how to solve her problem soon if she had any hope of getting through the rest of the year. Maybe she could join a club or something to keep her mind on other things; it was a pity that there were only House Quidditch teams, she had really gotten into the sport since she finally entered the magical community (especially the position of Beater; it reminded her of when she played baseball the first time she visited her uncle in America).

* * *

Luna Lovegood was happy.

She had spent a couple of wonderful evenings at Potter Manor and had danced several times with a boy she knew would one day be her husband. Not that Luna was an obsessive stalker like Ginny; it's just that she _knew_ things. Her mother called it 'Foresight.' She also knew which girls would also get married to Harry James Potter. Just because Harry hadn't revealed that he needed six wives didn't mean that Luna wasn't able to know.

Luna smiled to herself.

"Fay is going to look so pretty in her wedding dress," Luna thought aloud. "I wonder if Daphne and Tracey are going to wear matching garters." She gave a happy sigh. "It's going to be so nice to have such a big family."

With that, the grinning blonde skipped off to ask her father about the traditions for polygamous weddings.

* * *

Hermione Granger was thoughtful.

Learning that her best friend had traveled through time was like something out of one of her favorite science-fiction programs on the telly. Everything she'd read about time-travel indicated that it was impossible for something like this to have happened; and yet, she knew that nothing ever seemed to be impossible for Harry Potter. Hermione wasn't sure when she'd started to develop serious feelings for Harry; perhaps it had been when he sent that letter to her during the summer, or maybe it was when he kissed her cheek while she was petrified, or maybe even when he jumped on the back of that troll in first year. One thing was certain, though, Hermione Granger was in love with Harry Potter.

That's when Hermione's thoughts shifted to what she had learned about the future. She couldn't believe that she had married Ron and that he had basically crushed her spirit according to what Harry described. She wasn't sure how she was going to restrain herself from strangling the red-headed bastard the next time she saw him.

* * *

Harry Potter was cheerful.

He'd just had one of the best Christmases of his life. Things were going according to plan, he'd gotten to spend time with the people he cared about, and Umbitch had been eaten by a giant blancmange. Before his holidays were over, the portrait of his father had told him there was a book in the Potter library about using runes to make portals that can be installed into a trunk. Harry had found the book and, after magically equipping his school trunk to have several new compartments, installed a portal directly to Potter Manor so he could come home whenever he wished and talk to Sirius or his parents' portraits.

And yet, despite everything going so well, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that he had forgotten something.

* * *

Very far away, Christmas cheer was very thin for one Barty Crouch Jr. He'd been trapped in his father's house for more than ten years and wanted nothing more than to find his master and restore him to power. But the young Death Eater was patient; he knew that, sooner or later, he would get his chance.

* * *

**Omake:**

_Meanwhile, very, __**very**__ far away…_

"Morning, Mrs. Crabbe."

"Morning, Mrs. Goyle."

"Busy day?"

"Busy? I just spent four hours burying the cat."

"Four hours to bury a cat?!"

"Yes, it wouldn't keep still; kept wriggling about, howling its head off."

"Oh, it wasn't dead, then?"

"Well, no, no, but it's not at all a well cat; and seeing as we was going away for a fortnight's holiday, I thought I'd better bury it just to be on the safe side."

"Quite right, you don't want to come back from Sorrento to a dead cat. Yes, kill it now, that's what I say."

"Yes."

"We're going to have to have our owl put down."

"Really? Is it very old?"

"No, we just don't like it. We're going to take it to the Menagerie tomorrow."

"Tell me, how do they put owls down, then?"

"Well, it's funny you should ask that, because I've just been reading this great big book about how to put your owl down. And apparently, you can either hit them with the book, or you can shoot them with a blasting hex just there above the beak."

"Well, well, well; of course, Mrs. Flint flushed hers down the loo."

"Oh! No, you shouldn't do that! No, that's dangerous; yes, they breed in the sewers. Eventually you'll get evil-smelling flocks of huge, soiled owls flying out of people's lavatories, infringing their personal freedom."

* * *

**Author's Note****: The last scene was just added in because of a need for Monty Python humor. **

**That's right! I decided to have Tracey be the one responsible for the blancmange. I had realized that I made Tracey fond of cooking as a pastime, and it all just fell into place. **

**Also, I have my reasons for choosing Fay as one of Harry's wives. While she does not appear specifically in canon, Fay is an established character and I felt this was a good opportunity to try characterizing her. Besides, it's not like the other Gryffindor girls have that much development either. At least Fay has some character description on the Harry Potter Wiki that I could use to get a basic idea of what she might be like.**

**Please review.**


	13. Have You Seen the Sugar-Bowl?

He's Not Dead Yet

**You know, I really do enjoy writing this story. My only problem is that I am not sure how to write romance as I am not overly fond of the sappy, fluffy, lovey-dovey stuff that I have seen in many works. And I also don't really want to jump headlong into the relationships like I've seen happen before. It's quite the conundrum. **

**Just remember while you're reading this chapter not to take this story seriously.**

**Oh, and I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter or Monty Python.**

Have You Seen the Sugar-Bowl?

Before he knew it, Harry was on his way back to Hogwarts. Harry noticed that a great deal of people were very pleased to see him; especially girls. During the train ride, Harry counted no less than twenty female students (not counting Hermione or Luna) had stopped by their compartment simply to talk to him. Ron still didn't sit with them on the train; it seemed he was still angry at Harry for no discernible reason (not that Harry or anyone else really cared).

The feast that evening actually was rather interesting. Dumbledore had apparently been issued an order by the Gringotts goblins to deliver the Potter grimoire to Harry in full view of the Great Hall with an admission of his guilt. Needless to say, there were many shocked faces.

That night, Harry had decided to read the grimoire as it was the ultimate compendium of his family's knowledge. The leather-bound volume was sealed with an intricate lock that had a small, sharp piece to it so that the reader could confirm he/she was a Potter through a blood test. On the cover of the book was the inscription: _Credo Quia Impossible Est_. This was the noble motto of the Potters which, translated, meant: _I believe it because it is impossible_.

Giving the book the required drop of blood, causing it to unlock, Harry turned to the first page which was a detailed history of how the Potter family was started.

"_Of all the magical families in Britain, none is older or has had more impact in the country than the Potters. Our story began in Roman-occupied Judea with the birth of a young prophet; this prophet's name was Brian Cohen…_"

It was really getting late by the time Harry finished with the origin story of the Potter family.

"…_And so, after Brian had been crucified, his lover, Judith, discovered she was with child. She gave birth to a son, Michael Cohen, who later traveled with Joseph of Arimathea to Britain so they could hide the Holy Grail. Michael married a British chieftain's daughter, Gladys, and their daughter, Anna Cohen, married a Roman merchant named Gaius Potus Maximus, a dealer in wine. It is from the name 'Potus' that 'Potter' is derived. And thus began the Potter family._"

Closing the book with a slight snap, Harry realized he may have just learned more about his family history than he wanted to. He supposed the old saying was true: "Be careful how hard you shake the family tree or howler-monkeys will fall out."

* * *

After his morning jog the next day, Harry headed in for breakfast; he wasn't surprised to see a great number of girls staring at him, all of whom had attended the New Year's ball he had thrown.

He sat down next to Hermione and across from Neville and began to fill his plate. Suddenly, he felt an annoyance in the force.

"You just had to go and show off, didn't you, Harry?" snapped Ronald Weasley. "Not satisfied with being the bloody Boy-Who-Lived, you have to go and do _this_!"

"Do what, Weasley?" Harry replied coolly.

"You know bloody well _what_!"

"Mr. Weasley," came the calm but clearly irritated voice of Professor Babbling. "Kindly cease this interruption. You are behaving in a most reprehensible manner that is not acceptable for any student, let alone a Gryffindor."

"Who are you to tell me off?" Ron rounded on her.

"I am your Head of House, Mr. Weasley."

"Yeah, right," he snorted. "McGonagall is Head of Gryffindor."

"I am afraid you are mistaken, Mr. Weasley. Had you been paying attention at the House meeting, you would have known that the Deputy Headmistress relinquished the Head of House position to me."

Ron stared at her blankly.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for your disrespect and I will give you a detention if you don't stop disrupting breakfast. Good day."

The Runes professor made her way back to the staff table, leaving an irate Ronald Weasley behind. Ron gave Harry one last scathing look and then moved away to start loading up his plate.

Soon enough it was time for classes to start.

Ron's ire only increased when Harry presented his new Firebolt. As Harry joined the rest of the Gryffindor team as they were about to set off for practice, every eye was on the magnificent broomstick. Wood was practically dancing with glee at the notion of having a Firebolt on his team.

"That cup is practically ours," he kept saying all the way down to the pitch.

The word that Harry now owned a Firebolt had reached every ear in the school before lunchtime. Harry found the attention rather irksome, just like in the last timeline.

In addition to Quidditch, Defense Club was getting back in the swing of things. Stearns and Lupin had the students divide up into teams and send mild hexes at each other in a simulated battle; Stearns had adapted the idea from something called 'Laser Tag' and the students had a blast.

Harry and Hermione's Occlumency lessons were going well and they'd even brought in a few more students like Neville and Luna, who needed to have their minds protected more than ever now that they knew the truth (although, Stearns had told Luna that anyone attempting to infiltrate her mind would probably get a migraine simply because how her thoughts seemed to be all over the place). Potions with Mr. Preston had certainly become more interesting; Preston had decided to start having his students pick and choose which potions they wanted to brew as long as he felt the potion was within their level of ability.

* * *

Indeed, everything was quiet for a long time. That is, of course, until a certain Curse-Breaker stopped by the school.

"Bill!" came an exclamation from the younger Weasley children. Ginny came rushing over and tackled her favorite big brother in a hug.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I'm here to check the Chamber of Secrets," Bill replied. "It seems that Harry Potter is interested in seeing if there are any hidden rooms or something in the Chamber and so Gringotts sent me over to make sure there aren't any curses."

No sooner had Bill said the name "Harry Potter" than Ron was in a bad mood.

"Why does everything that happens around here have to do with Harry?" Ron snapped.

"Ron," Percy said. "Harry's business is his own. Just because Bill is here to see him it doesn't give you a reason to be angry."

"Yeah, Ronnikins," Fred added.

"You and Harry are supposed to be-" George continued.

"Good friends."

"We _were_ friends until that ponce had to start showing off," Ron replied.

As Harry approached, Ron sulked off.

"You must be Bill," Harry said as he and the eldest Weasley shook hands. "Gringotts sent me a letter that a Curse-Breaker would be coming by."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Potter," Bill replied. "I've heard a lot about you."

"And I have heard a great deal from your siblings about you. Well, shall we head down?"

"Certainly. After you."

Harry led Bill to the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets.

"I can't be sure yet if I can break all the curses by myself," Bill said. "If they're too strong, I will have to call in some back up."

"If there are any curses," Harry responded, "they will most likely be Parselmagic. And I guess that's where I come in."

"Oh, by the way, Mr. Potter, Gringotts also informed me that they have located another of those 'secret devices' you were looking for. They said they found a shack in Little Hangleton that possesses a great deal of Dark Magic inside it but the dangers cannot be dispelled very easily. They suspect that a Parselmouth will be able to break through the wards better and asked me to inquire if you would be willing to go there with a group of Curse-Breakers to investigate."

"Of course; when do you need me to be there?"

"Next weekend, if that's all right with you. The others are still trying to figure out some of the readings we got from testing the wards around that place. Oh, and Director Ragnok asked me to tell you that the ritual to take care of those 'secret devices' of yours will be ready shortly after Easter."

"Excellent."

Harry and Bill made their way towards the statue in the chamber. Harry spoke the incantation to open the statue's mouth and Bill conjured a rope ladder. He then asked Harry to wait at the bottom while he checked the place for curses. Lo and behold there were no less than fifty different defense mechanisms in place. Obviously Slytherin was the paranoid sort.

Bill informed Harry that he would be back the next day with his team and they could get those curses taken out, though they would need Harry to take care of the Parselmagic spells.

* * *

Meanwhile, Fay was on her way back to the Gryffindor common room when she suddenly heard laughter, and not the good kind. Rounding a corner, she saw that Cho Chang girl and her tag-along; they had clearly just knocked another girl to the ground and were now going through said girl's bag.

"Loony," Cho sneered, "You really should've learned by now that freaks like you are a disgrace to Ravenclaw."

Fay's eyes narrowed. If there was one thing she couldn't stand it was a bully. At her primary school, she'd been routinely victimized by a clique of Mean Girls; they had called her a 'freakishly tall, spot-faced loser' many times and, as childish as the insult was, it had always gotten to her.

Fay looked closer and saw that 'Loony' was none other than Luna Lovegood. Now that really irked her. She might find Luna rather eccentric, but the little blonde girl had really grown on her during their time in Defense Club.

"Leave her alone, Chang," Fay growled.

Cho and Marietta turned.

"Oh, hello, Dunbar," Cho said haughtily.

"Or should we say 'Dumb-bar'?" Marietta added.

The two laughed.

Fay raised one eyebrow, silently wondering how those morons had ended up in Ravenclaw.

"We were just teaching Loony a lesson," Cho continued. "Just making sure she knows when she's not wanted."

Fay's blue eyes were icy as they glared at Cho.

"Oh, someone around here is definitely not wanted," said Fay. "But it's not Luna."

"What are _you_ going to do about it?" Marietta quipped.

Fay gave a wry smile that caused both the bullies to become slightly unnerved. You see, it's never a good idea to piss off a genuine Gryffindor.

Her wand shot to her hand faster than Cho and Marietta could blink and with a swift CRACK the deed was done. Marietta had become a rather ugly-looking vole that gave a terrified "EEP!" when she realized what had happened, while Cho's hair had been turned into a vivid green afro and she now sported a clown's nose and make-up and was dressed in an outlandish fairy costume.

Pocketing her wand and trying not to think about how many detentions she would get for doing that, Fay turned to Luna and helped the silver-eyed Ravenclaw to her feet.

"Thank you for that, Fay," Luna said. "I knew that you were the best choice."

Fay shook her head, slightly baffled.

"Best choice for what?"

"Oh, I am not permitted to say just yet. Don't worry, though; you and the others will find out soon enough."

Luna picked up her bag, thanked Fay again, and skipped off. Fay stared after the young girl, still not understanding what she meant but bemused all the same.

* * *

The following day, Bill returned with a team of his fellow Curse-Breakers. Harry led them back down into the Chamber of Secrets and, after several long hours of work, they finally managed to get through to a hidden room. It looked like an old, private study. There were piles of books and mountains of scattered notes. Harry examined several curious texts that seemed to be about ways to improve Occlumency shields and guides to the use of Mind Magic. But, what were most surprising were Slytherin's journals. The journals revealed that Slytherin, contrary to popular belief, was not a pure-blood supremacist at all; Slytherin was simply worried about the effect that the Muggle witch-hunts would have on the Muggle-born and that some of the students might be used as spies by their parents in an attempt to find other witches and wizards and have them killed. Slytherin did have a strong dislike for Muggles, but it was mostly because of what the witch-hunts had done to his loved ones. Slytherin also mentioned in his journals a very interesting thing about his heritage.

* * *

A new article in _The Quibbler_ was released soon after. Underneath a photograph of Harry Potter and the Curse-Breakers in Slytherin's secret room was the entry:

_The Secret Chamber of the Chamber of Secrets_

_By Xenophilius Lovegood_

_This past week, an investigation was launched at the urging of Mr. Harry James Potter to see if there was more to the fabled Chamber of Secrets than met the eye. At first, it was believed that the chamber held only Slytherin's monster, the basilisk that terrorized Hogwarts last year, but what was found was truly startling. After the removal of a great many curses and wards placed around the head of the giant statue where the basilisk had been hidden, a secret room was found. Inside were Salazar Slytherin's private study and his vast collection of magic and all the notes he took during his research in various branches of spell-creation. _

_But the surprises don't stop there. What was also discovered were Slytherin's journals which detailed how he came to dislike Muggles; his family had been virtually wiped-out in the witch-hunts and his dear friend, Helga Hufflepuff, had been subjected to thirteen years of imprisonment and torture at the hands of the same until Slytherin himself rescued her. The famous 'fight' between Slytherin and Gryffindor that allegedly caused Slytherin was not, as most thought, due to the acceptance of Muggle-born students; in fact, there was no fight at all. Slytherin had left Hogwarts because he had decided to retire from teaching so that he could spend more time with his family, whom he missed a great deal. _

_Also, Slytherin's alleged hatred of Muggle-borns is completely without foundation. Slytherin was concerned for the well-being of the Muggle-born students as he felt their families might try and force them into working as spies so that the witch-hunters could track down and kill more witches and wizards. Salazar Slytherin himself was not even a pure-blood as most have presumed; he was, technically, a half-blood. Slytherin's father, Lord Giseric Slytherin, had married a young woman named Orla, an Irish cambion (what we now call a 'half-breed'). Orla's father was a Muggle-born who had married a being known as a Serpentine Lamia (a shape-shifting creature that, in its true form, takes the appearance of a beautiful woman who is snake from the waist down). Slytherin's legendary ability to speak to snakes was not the result of any Dark magic, but was inherited from his mother's family. The assertion of pure-bloods that Slytherin House is the House of the solely pure-blooded is completely false. _

_Here is an excerpt of page 299 of Slytherin's journal from year 998 that really sheds some light upon the true Salazar Slytherin._

"_Twas a large host of new-bloods __**(Muggle-born)**__ this year. It truly was a boon that Godric enchanted that hat to sort the students for us as many were qualified for mine own House. During the ceremony, I noted well how mine eldest son's eyes lingered on a fellow year-mate of his, a young farmer's daughter in Helga's House; my father would surely turn in his grave if he knew mine heir was taken with a girl from the peasantry, but I have no such qualms. Godric had taken too much ale at dinner, as he is often prone to do, and I was the only one willing to take the lout back to his chambers as he is well-known to become violent when drunk. At last year's Welcoming Feast, Godric blackened mine eye in one of his fits; though he offered sincere penance for it afterwards, it made no effect upon his bad habit. _

"_A second ill befell our noble gathering that night. Rowena's sister, Reagan, had sent an owl to her, stating that Rowena's husband, that oafish fool, had run off with a prostitute. The dear woman flew into one of her rages and has already threatened to gut any unfortunate individual who dares to mention the incident. Young Helena was bitterly distraught by her father's abandonment and I had to give the poor child a Calming Draught. Helga is currently watching over Helena and her baby brother Oberon as Rowena is too angry to see anyone in her present state of mind. I am worried this news will cause a resurgence of Rowena's ill health; the last thing we need is for her to fall prey to the Consumption again; magic may be powerful, but it cannot cure all that ails us."_

_This was a brief look into the life of a man who has been unjustly hated for who knows how long. The true Salazar Slytherin was a kind and humble man who bore no ill-will to anyone because of blood status. We have also been informed that the rightful owner of the Slytherin Collection, as it will be known, has stated that full copies of the Slytherin journals will be released so that the magical world will know the real story behind the Founders of Hogwarts._

Albus Dumbledore set the copy of _The Quibbler_ down on his desk. It really was eye-opening that Salazar Slytherin was nothing like the history books portrayed him. This would cause a damaging blow to much of the pure-blood propaganda. But the news that someone other than he had claim to the Slytherin Collection was what truly rankled the aged headmaster. Dumbledore had noticed that the Founders' seals had vanished from his Wizengamot robes; this meant that he no longer had any ability to cast votes or even any reason to be in the Wizengamot. The only person Dumbledore could think of that could claim the Slytherin Collection would be a descendant of Slytherin; but the only descendant of Slytherin was Voldemort, right? Right?

* * *

The article about Slytherin really had done its work. Everywhere you went, it seemed like the only thing the Slytherin students could talk about was what had been uncovered about their precious House's founder. Draco Malfoy, however, was unusually silent; he kept looking down at the floor as though he'd just suffered the worst kind of betrayal.

The reaction of the other Houses was surprising, too. It seemed that people began to treat the Slytherins with more trust than they had before. Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs alike had decided to open up more to their fourth House; several Slytherin girls were seen studying with some Ravenclaws, a group of Gryffindor boys were seen joking around with some boys from Slytherin. Harry even noticed that Cedric Diggory was escorting a Slytherin girl named Justine Max down to Hogsmeade that weekend.

The only person who didn't seem to take this news well was Ronald Weasley. Ron seemed to have gotten it in his head that this whole thing was a big set up to make people trust the 'dirty, evil snakes' and that Harry had clearly been brainwashed by those 'evil, Dark magic pricks' into supporting this whole thing. That his own brother was involved in the discovery seemed to have escaped Ron's mind.

* * *

The following weekend, Bill returned to get Harry for the expedition to the Gaunt shack at Little Hangleton. Harry had cleared it with both Professor Babbling and Professor McGonagall a few days earlier. Harry and Bill made their way outside the boundaries of the school and Bill Apparated them out.

"Good to see you again, Harry," said Curse-Breaker Maynard.

"We've got quite the ward-scheme here," added Curse-Breaker Galahad. "We'll need you to use Parseltongue to get us in. After that…well, we're not entirely sure what we'll come up against."

Harry gave a short nod and turned towards the house. He wondered how Dumbledore had gotten in without using Parseltongue in the other timeline; it was probably because, though the wards were rooted in Parselmagic, the spells themselves could be overcome, though not easily.

Harry began to think to himself.

_If I were an evil, self-absorbed megalomaniac_, he thought, _what would my password be?_

"_Open in the name of Lord Voldemort, heir of Salazar Slytherin_," Harry said.

"Excellent, Harry," said Bill. "The wards fell right down once you said whatever it was that you said. Now, quickly, everyone, walk this way."

"If we could walk that way…" the other Curse-Beakers started before Bill pointed a warning finger at them. "Sorry."

The group made its way into the dilapidated house. Inside it was even more decrepit than Harry had remembered from Bob Ogden's memory.

"Look!" exclaimed Curse-Breaker Maynard.

He pointed to the wall where there was a series of strange writings.

"What does it say?" asked Bill. "What language is that?"

"It's Parsel-writing," said Maynard. "Quickly, Harry, read it."

Harry came forward and began to read.

"It says: _To anyone who enters this place, know that your search will only be successful if you can escape the…Arrrghhh._"

"What?"

"The…Arrrghhh."

"What is that?" asked one of the Curse-Breakers.

Harry shrugged.

"That's what's written on the wall."

The Curse-Breakers began to look at each other in confusion.

"Isn't there a St. Arrrghh's in Cornwall?" asked Curse-Breaker Lance.

"No, that's St. Ives'," Bill corrected.

"Ooooh!" exclaimed another of the Curse-Breakers.

"No, it's Arrrghh, at the back of the throat," said Curse-Breaker Lance.

"No, no, 'ooooh' is surprise and alarm."

"You sure you don't mean more of an 'AHH!'?"

"Oh, yes, AHHHH!"

"Ooooh!" shouted Bill and everyone jerked around to see what he was staring at.

There, before their eyes, was a giant monster.

"It's the Legendary Black Beast of…Arrrghhh!" Curse-Breaker Maynard exclaimed as the beast grabbed him and prepared to devour him.

"RUN AWAY!" shouted Bill.

They ducked and ran. They hid behind anything they could, but to no avail.

And the horrendous black beast lunged forward; escape for Harry and the Curse-Breakers seemed hopeless. When, suddenly, the author suffered a fatal heart-attack after eating leftover Chinese food from last night…**(Urk!)** The fictional peril was no more; the quest for the Holy Gra…I mean, for the Horcrux could continue.

Curse-Breaker Maynard dropped to the floor from the place in the air where, not a moment ago, the horrific monster had been holding him.

"Oh, bloody heck, I really need to get a new job," he said, staggering to his feet.

The beast now gone, Harry and the Curse-Breakers set to work. Eventually, they picked up readings of powerful Dark Magic beneath one of the floorboards. It was there that they found the ring. They sensed a powerful Degeneration Curse and a 'Put-Me-On' Compulsion Charm on the ring and had those off after a good half hour of tinkering. They then secured the ring in a special box and left the shack.

As Harry bid farewell to the Curse-Breakers, he realized that he had forgotten something important. He still had to do something to mess up Voldemort's resurrection and the best way to do that would be to replace the 'bone of the father' with something else. He asked Bill to wait for him and quickly set off for the graveyard.

With a smirk on his face as he headed back from replacing the bones, Harry wondered just how badly Voldemort's rebirthing ritual would get screwed up.

* * *

It wasn't long before the anticipated Ravenclaw-Gryffindor Quidditch match was due. The two teams strode onto the field and Harry noticed that Cho Chang's hair was still slightly greenish in hue (Luna had told him about what Fay had done the other week) which completely ruined the effect of Cho's flirtatious wink at Harry, not that he would have ever looked twice at her after all the bullying she had heaped on Luna.

The match went much the same as last time, except that Draco and his goons didn't attempt to sabotage the match with their dementor impersonations.

The victory was just as sweet as last time and the party in Gryffindor Tower went on even longer. When Professor Babbling came in to tell the students they should get to bed, she was surprised to be met by Sirius (who had come to watch the game and had been afterwards invited to the party) who, in a slightly drunken stupor, flung his arms around her waist and pulled her in for a kiss in front of all the Gryffindors, who wolf-whistled and cheered at the spectacle.

When Sirius finally pulled away, Professor Babbling was flushed with a pink tinge in her cheeks.

"Well, I suppose you can all stay up for a bit longer," she said.

* * *

**Author's Note****: The next chapter will skip forward to around the Easter holidays. As I am sure you have all been able to figure out, much of what was in the third book can no longer have happened because of the whole premise of the story. **

**Thank you all for reading and reviewing. I liked a number of the suggestions that people have put forth and will be considering them as I write. It's not easy to write from this point as just about all the previous chapters you have read I had pre-written to some extent before posting them and merely expanded the details a bit once I got feedback from the reviewers.**


	14. Pigs: 9, British Bipeds: 4

He's Not Dead Yet

**This chapter officially ends Harry's second third year. This is because I have run thin on ideas for year three. Next chapter will start up as Harry is leaving for vacation and will take up from there.**

**I don't own Harry Potter or anything related to Monty Python (or 'How to Irritate People').**

Pigs: 9, British Bipeds: 4

Harry had, once again, received permission to leave the school. It was the day the goblins would destroy the soul fragments and, naturally, Harry's presence was required. However, not everyone was so willing to allow him to leave. Having finally gotten the goblins off his back for the time being, Dumbledore had decided to, once again, attempt to speak with Harry in private.

The old man accosted Harry as Hermione and Neville were walking him out of the school so that he could rendezvous with Sirius who would then Apparate him to Gringotts.

"Harry, I am afraid I must order you to meet with me in my office," said Dumbledore.

"Order, eh, who do you think you are?" Harry replied.

"I'm your Headmaster," Dumbledore replied, looking distinctly baffled.

"Well, I didn't vote for you."

"You don't vote for Headmasters."

"Well, how'd you become Headmaster, then?"

"The Dark wizard, Gellert Grindelwald, challenged me to a duel. I fought heroically and took him down, winning the fabled Elder Wand; signifying by divine provenance that I, Albus Dumbledore, was to carry the most powerful wand in the world. _That_ is why I am your Headmaster!"

"Listen," Harry retorted, "strange Dark wizards trying to take over the world and losing in duels is no basis for a system of academic authority. Supreme academic authority derives from an individual's ability to care for students and delegate and regulate the tasks associated with their position; not from some trumped-up farce of a duel."

"Be quiet."

"I mean, you can't expect to wield supreme authority over this school just because some stupid bastard tripped on a banana-peel and inadvertently chucked his wand at you."

One of the things the Ministry of Death had shown him was what had actually happened during the famous duel between Dumbledore and Grindelwald.

"Shut up!"

"I mean, if I went around saying I was an emperor just because I defeated Voldemort as a baby, they'd put me away!"

"Shut up! Will you SHUT UP!"

"Ah, now we see the violence inherent in the system."

"SHUT UP!"

"Violence inherent in the system! Help! Help! I'm being repressed!" Harry declared, grinning.

"Bloody child!" Dumbledore shouted and stalked off to his office.

"Oh, what a give-away," Harry said, turning to his shocked friends. "Did you all hear that? That's what I'm on about. Did you see him repressing me? You saw it, didn't you?"

"Calm down, Harry," Hermione said. "We'll take care of Dumbledore in time."

"Well, it's not quick enough in my opinion."

"Give it another year, Harry. Remember what you told us about the Triwizard Tournament? Well, there will be plenty of things we can use then to get Dumbledore ousted. Besides, as the owner of Hogwarts, don't you have the power to remove him?"

"Well, yes, but I wanted him to be humiliated first."

"Then I don't know what you're complaining about."

"Harry," Neville spoke up as they continued walking, "I've been wondering, are you going to officially claim your Lordships after the ritual at Gringotts?"

"Not today, Neville. I was thinking of doing that right before school lets out; it'll give everyone something to think about."

"And plenty of girls the chance to ogle you?" Hermione suggested, her cheeks turning faintly pink as she did; something that went completely unnoticed by Harry.

"That will be rather annoying," Harry conceded with a wince. "But it's important to let people know that I mean business. Speaking of business…How are those plans coming along?"

"Great, Harry," Neville replied. "I took the liberty of drawing up a list of various businesses we could consider. I've also sent out invitations to different students who would be great for the Board. So far, there has been a very positive response."

"Well done, Neville, keep up the good work."

They continued to chat about their plans until they met up with the familiar figure of Harry's godfather.

"Wish me luck," Harry said. Just before he turned away, Hermione spoke up.

"Harry," she said. She then pulled him into a hug and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. "Good luck."

Harry gave a warm smile.

"Thanks, Hermione. Don't worry, the goblins told me the ritual is perfectly safe. What's the worst that could-"

"No, don't say it!" Sirius exclaimed, waving his arms frantically. "Whatever you do, don't finish that sentence!"

"What's wrong, Lord Black?" asked Neville.

"Well, first off, Neville, it's Sirius; none of that Lord Black stuff unless it's a formal occasion like the Wizengamot. Now, as I was saying, you should never, _ever_ say 'what's the worst that could happen?' because every time someone says it, _every time_, something bad _does_ happen."

"Oh, thanks for catching that, Sirius," said Harry. "I would hate to fall prey to Murphy's Law. God knows it's happened enough in my life as it is."

With a final parting wave at Hermione and Neville, the two wizards Apparated just outside of Gringotts. Sirius gave a grin and gestured forward.

"After you, my dear godson."

* * *

"Why must magical rituals be so weird?" Harry asked as he watched the setting up of the Horcrux-removal ritual.

"Could be worse," added Sirius.

"True. I just don't see why they need a large, wooden rabbit."

"Or creosote."

"Or a roller-skating vicar. And why do we have to wear fake antlers, anyway?"

"Just go with it, Prongslet. Don't bother trying to understand these rituals; they're all bizarre. It's probably because just about everyone in here is a member of the Free Masons."

"They what?"

"Of course. What did you think the Free Masons were hiding?"

"So, it all falls into place."

* * *

"So, Harry," Hermione asked once Harry returned, "how did it go?"

"Pretty well, I thought," he replied. "The soul-fragment in my head tried to possess me a number of times and I'm no longer allowed to use roller-skates unsupervised. But, other than that, it went great."

"That's nice, Harry. Care for some Shepherd's Pie?"

"Ooh, my favorite."

As dinnertime progressed, they slipped into more pleasant topics of conversation.

"You might want to be careful around Ginny, Harry," said Hermione. "I wouldn't be surprised if she tries to slip you a love potion soon. She keeps muttering things like 'Harry will be mine' to herself and I could swear I saw her writing 'Lady Ginevra Molly Potter' in a large heart in her notebook."

"You let me worry about Ginny," Harry replied. "But you need to be careful around Ron."

Hermione gave a snort.

"I am more than capable of dealing with Ron."

* * *

Speaking of Ron…

Up in Gryffindor Tower, the young Weasley had decided to try and get into Harry's trunk, once again. Ron had made sure that Crookshanks wasn't around to disturb him and immediately set to work on the trunk. He was surprised to find it locked but tried a simple _Alohomora_, only for the trunk to react by having a spell shoot out of it that made Ron's nose grow to five times its size. Due to his inability to learn from mistakes on account of the abnormally small substance that passed for Ron Weasley's brain, he tried again. This time the trunk gave off a loud siren-like noise that made an annoying 'eeee-deee-dee-dee-dee, eeee-deee-dee-dee-dee, eeee-dee, eeee-dee, eeee-deee-dee-dee!' sound. However, even that didn't deter Ron as he made one last attempt to open the trunk; the result of which caused a most amusing thing to happen.

When Dean and Seamus came upstairs to the dorm to see what the noise was all about, they saw a very angry-looking penguin with an over-large beak and a tuft of red hair on its head, standing beside Harry Potter's trunk.

* * *

It seemed that the workload was finally catching up with Hermione. Despite Harry's advice, Hermione refused to drop any of her subjects, not even Divination, which she loathed.

"Hermione," Harry said calmly one evening, "please, just drop Muggle Studies and Divination. You're not gaining anything by being in those classes."

"But I am, Harry," she replied shortly and with a slightly frazzled expression. "Okay, Divination is very dodgy and Trelawney is a right old fraud; but, can I just give it one more chance?"

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"In the last timeline," he said, "you got so angry with Trelawney that you picked up your bags in the middle of class and marched out. Please, Hermione, just go to Professor Babbling and ask to drop it."

Harry gave her a pleading look that finally got through her resolute disposition.

"Okay, I'll drop Divination."

"And Muggle Studies?"

Hermione bit her lip.

"It is actually very interesting to know what they teach the magically-raised about Muggles," she explained. "A lot of the information is very outdated and I've been documenting just what is wrong with the course." She pulled out some files and handed them to Harry. "Just something to keep in mind when you take control over the school."

Harry pondered over the notes. Muggle Studies did seem to be very out-of-date and would need a complete overhaul; it seemed that although Professor Burbage meant well her curriculum was wildly erroneous.

"Okay, Hermione," he said, "You can finish the Muggle Studies course this year, but please drop it at the end. It will free up your schedule and then you won't keep losing sleep or stressing out from all that time-turner use."

Hermione nodded and gave a small smile.

"Alright, Harry," she conceded. "I know you wouldn't ask me to give up a learning opportunity unless you believed it to be for my own good."

"Besides," Harry added, "we've got all those extra classes. Stearns said that he would give some pointers on non-magical self-defense after we're done with the next Occlumency lesson."

Well, the rest of the year passed with relative quietude. Harry remarked that it was the quietest year at Hogwarts that he had ever experienced. The private self-defense lessons with Mr. Stearns were rather odd as he had an obsession with teaching them how to defend themselves against anyone who attacks them armed with a piece of fresh fruit. Soon enough it was time for exams to begin. Harry discovered that he and Hermione tied for best in Ancient Runes. All in all, it seemed as though this would be Harry's best year at Hogwarts in living memory. And it only got better during the last couple of days.

* * *

The morning of the last official day of school saw an edition of _The Quibbler_ that officially made the magazine the number one bestselling media outlet in all of magical Britain and drove the editor of _The Prophet_ into chronic depression and alcoholism.

_Harry Potter-Hogwarts Heir!_

_By Xenophilius Lovegood_

_Yesterday, at Gringotts Bank, Mr. Harry James Potter made the decision to officially claim Lordship over the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter. Under normal circumstances, such a thing wouldn't happen until Harry reaches the age of seventeen; however, as the last of the Potter line and with his guardian's permission, Mr. Potter was able to be declared an emancipated minor, thus making him Lord Harry James Potter._

_However, that is not the only Lordship Harry has a claim to. In addition to the Potter line, Harry was able to officially reinstate the Peverell Lordship, long thought extinct. But it didn't end there. After undergoing the Inheritance Ritual, young Lord Potter has been confirmed as the heir of all four of the Founders of Hogwarts._

_It seems that the famous Patrocles Potter married the last named descendent of Godric Gryffindor, Geraldine Gryffindor, in the year 1776. According to tradition, as Geraldine was the last person to bear the name Gryffindor, the Gryffindor Lordship would pass to a younger child; however, the couple only had one son, Gordian Potter. The Potter-Gryffindor marriage was kept very quiet so as to protect family interests. Janus Peverell and Ilsa Hufflepuff, married in 1823, had one daughter, Ignatia Peverell, who was the last true heir to both families; Ilsa married Christopher Potter in 1849. The reason why none of the Potters ever claimed their Lordships is unknown, but it does mean that our dear Lord Potter has four families to reinstate into the magical community._

_At least, it would have been only four families had not new light been shed on the heritage of the late Lily Anne Potter (nee Evans). The name Evans, though common amongst the Welsh Muggles, has long been believed to have gone extinct like the Peverells. The Evans family was a clan of Welsh Battle-Mages; although they never possessed a Lordship, they were highly respected. The last son, Jonas Evans, was a Squib; however, the name of Evans seemed to be so prestigious that the Squib daughter of the Ravenclaw family, Hypatia, married young Jonas. But even this is not the end of the matter. It seems that Lily Potter was descended from the Florus family line which had intermarried with the last member of the Slytherin family to bear the name, Syrena Slytherin. The last head of the Noble House of Florus died twenty years ago without any children to inherit the Florus family fortune; however, the family did not die off. Rosemary Florus, a Squib, married Robert Evans and they had two daughters; Petunia and Lily Evans. _

_Through simple deduction, it has been determined that young Lord Potter has six family names to reinstate. As part of tradition, this will require Lord Potter to take one wife for each name; Potter, Peverell, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. The other two families that Lord Potter is descended from, Evans and Florus, are separate cases. The Evans family did not follow the usual inheritance method, as they were a clan without official title; the Florus line, on the other hand, was of the Noble class but did not possess Lordship as it was not Ancient or Most Ancient. It is necessary for Lord Potter to take a wife for each name because of a required separation of power that is far too complex to explain. _

_In addition to his current Lordships, Lord Potter is the current heir-presumptive for the Black family. Should Lord Sirius Black not have a child to take on the Black Lordship, the title will fall to Lord Potter (who would then need a seventh wife); however, reliable information indicates that Lord Black will not be without an heir of his own for too long._

_Lord Potter gave his opinion on this situation:_

"_It really was quite shocking," he said. "Growing up in the Muggle world, the idea of having multiple spouses only ever appeared in very ancient history or in stories. I suppose in some parts of the Muggle world it still exists, but I have never been to those places. I am in no rush to get married; I have no intention of getting married before I turn twenty-one, unless something seriously persuades me otherwise._

"_In my opinion, marriage is a partnership, an agreement between equals in addition to being a physical, romantic, and loving state of life. I fully intend to treat each of my wives with the respect and love that they are owed; I will not marry someone based purely on either physical attraction or family connections. The marriages will be something agreed upon mutually and without coercion on either part. The title of 'Lady' for each of the families I am the Lord to is one of prestige; each of my wives will sit in proxy on my behalf in the Wizengamot as I may only occupy one seat at a time. I hope with all my heart that I can find wives who I can love and respect, and who can love and respect me in return."_

_Truly stirring words. I think many of my readers will agree that such good fortune could not have fallen upon a more deserving individual. I trust you will all join with me in wishing the best of luck to Lord Potter in his endeavors and in hoping that he will find the right young ladies to share his life with._

_**For information on Inheritance Rituals, see page 99**_

_**For details on different family genealogies, see page 45**_

_**For a brief history of polygamous marriages in magical Britain, see page 64**_

_**For news regarding the renewed Potter-Longbottom Alliance, see page 12**_

* * *

The look on everyone's face was hilarious. Albus Dumbledore appeared as though he was going to have a stroke. Snape looked as though someone had set him up on a date with Lockhart. The only thing that really annoyed Harry was the fact that just about every girl in the school looked ready to pounce on him.

Harry sat down across from Hermione and Neville and tried to act as though everything was perfectly normal.

"So," Neville spoke up, "you going to do anything to end the year on a positive note? I mean, other than what's happened already?"

Harry gave a devious smirk.

"I was thinking we could do something to get Snape to violate the restraining order," Harry replied. "I've got Fred and George in on it. You interested, Neville?"

Neville seemed to ponder the offer for a moment before smiling too.

"Lord Potter, I would be delighted to join in your pursuit of vengeance."

"No, Neville, not vengeance. That is such an ugly word. Call it 'payback.'"

Hermione smiled at the two boys and shook her head in amusement as she went back to reading. Hermione thought over all that had happened this year and how much it had changed her. It used to be that such things would have sent her flying into a rant about responsibility, but now she was more relaxed to the unconventional or even a bit of the rebellious. She supposed it was Harry's influence on her.

* * *

That evening, as everyone sat down for the feast amidst the red and gold banners (Gryffindor had won the House Cup thanks to Harry's outstanding victory during the Quidditch Final), the doors of the Great Hall swung open yet again to admit someone. It was Snape. Only, he didn't look like himself; his hair had been turned into a frizzy, orange mess, his teeth had been transfigured into a ridiculous overbite, someone had conjured a pair of fake glasses with Ping-Pong ball eyes on them onto his face, and his robes had been turned bright yellow with multi-colored polka-dots.

His face was red with fury. When his eyes caught sight of Harry, who was laughing at the sight, something inside the potions master snapped.

"THAT DOES IT!" he screamed. "RESTRAINING ORDER OR NOT, I WILL **KILL** YOU, POTTER!" He descended upon Harry and reached for his throat, only to be knocked back by several stunners.

Neville, Hermione, and Luna had shot from their seats to launch Stupfies; but they weren't the only ones. Fay Dunbar and Susan Bones had both fired jinxes, and several other students looked to have been about to do so as well.

"Someone call the Aurors," Harry declared. "I believe attempting to kill me is a violation of his restraining order."

Dumbledore sank into his chair as though hoping to vanish. There was no way he could get Severus out of this. His only chance was to try and plead with Harry to have mercy on Snape when the man stood trial.

In a matter of minutes, Amelia Bones and a large division of Aurors were on the scene to cart off the still unconscious Severus Snape. As she left, Amelia threw a very nasty smile at Dumbledore.

Harry and his friends, however, simply returned to their dinner. At the close of the feast, a very uncertain Dumbledore stood up to give his end-of-the-year speech.

"Well…" he began shakily, "another year seems to have passed. How time flies, indeed." He began to fidget, unsure of how to proceed. "Congratulations, once again, to Gryffindor House for winning the House Cup. I look forward to seeing you all again next year; with the exception of our graduating class, to whom I wish the best of luck. I hope you all have a wonderful summer."

Harry smirked at Dumbledore's obvious discomfit. He had plans for this summer; he was going to completely overhaul the school curriculum and practices. The Triwizard Tournament would only serve to aid his plans; mostly because the expected catastrophe would be just the perfect opportunity to oust Dumbledore. Harry did, however, have one thing to say before he started work on those practices.

"Before you call the feast to a close, Headmaster," Harry spoke up, "There is one final matter to be addressed."

Dumbledore winced but nodded for Harry to come forward. Harry took the podium.

"As a tribute to the pleasant events of this year, I have certain gifts to the school." He looked towards the doors. "We're ready!"

In walked Red Bayly and Josiah Prewett, with them were two goblins who were carrying a large box. Red directed them over to the podium.

"Okay, set it down right there," she said.

The goblins set the box down and removed the lid.

"All set, Lord Potter," Red stated.

Harry smiled and reached inside to remove the first item. It was Hufflepuff's cup.

"I bequeath to Hufflepuff House, the legendary cup of Helga Hufflepuff herself," Harry declared to the 'oohs' and 'ahhs' of the audience. He then carried the cup over to Professor Sprout. "I hope that this cup will be seen by future generations of Hufflepuffs."

Professor Sprout smiled warmly at Harry and nodded.

"Next," Harry continued and withdrew the necklace, "is a family heirloom of Salazar Slytherin. It was an engagement gift to Orla Slytherin and later given to Salazar Slytherin's youngest granddaughter. The history of this necklace was discovered in the Slytherin journals. Is there an acting-Head of Slytherin House? Only, it would be quite impossible to hand this over to the previous Head."

Professor McGonagall turned to Professor Vector.

"Septima," she said quietly, "would you be willing to take over Slytherin House?"

Professor Vector nodded discreetly.

"Mr. Po-I mean, Lord Potter," McGonagall said. "Professor Vector has agreed to take over for Slytherin House."

Harry nodded and presented the necklace to Professor Vector. Next, he withdrew the Diadem of Ravenclaw from the box, eliciting the loudest gasps yet.

"The Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw," Harry proclaimed. "Long thought lost, I now have the great pleasure of returning to Ravenclaw House." He presented the magnificent artefact to Professor Flitwick, who looked about ready to burst into happy tears.

Finally, Harry turned to face Gryffindor House. It was time to put something to the test. Harry raised his right hand.

"I, Harry James Potter, heir of Godric Gryffindor, do call upon the sword of my forbear to appear before me." There was a flash of light and the ruby-encrusted silver sword materialized in Harry's hand. "This sword belongs in Gryffindor Tower, not in the Headmaster's office," he said resolutely. He then presented the legendary weapon into the waiting hands of Professor Babbling.

"Well," Harry concluded, "I do believe that's it for the moment. No, wait, I almost forgot. Mr. Prewett?"

"Yes, Lord Potter?" said Josiah.

"Have those funds been transferred?"

"They have, milord."

"Excellent." Harry then turned back to the hall. "There are going to be a few changes next year. First off, we need a new Potions teacher." He turned to his hired instructor. "Mr. Preston, would you be willing to work for Hogwarts fulltime?"

"It would be my pleasure, Lord Potter," Robert Preston replied.

"Thank you, I look forward to class next year."

It was at this moment that Dumbledore decided he needed to meddle.

"Harry, I am the Headmaster and only I can appoint professors."

Harry's eyes flashed in Dumbledore's direction.

"You are sadly mistaken, then, old man," he snapped. "As the heir of Hogwarts, my authority supersedes yours. Consider yourself lucky that I haven't already had you removed from your post for your sheer incompetence and abuse of position." Harry then turned back to the Great Hall with a grin. "On that note, have a great summer, everyone."

Harry then stepped down from the podium and headed for the doors. Red, Mr. Prewett, and the goblins took that as their cue to leave. As they walked out, Mr. Prewett stopped for a brief word with Percy.

"I will see you in a few weeks to discuss your employment, young man," he said.

Percy smiled in delight. He had taken a far greater interest in working with Bayly, Black, and Prewett than he had done with his previous aspirations for a job at the Ministry. Since his meeting with Josiah Prewett at the New Year's ball at Potter Manor, Percy had been much more drawn to finances than to being some Ministry lackey.

Meanwhile, Harry had been heading off towards the tower, but something caused him to be diverted off his path. He found himself walking deeper into the school, into a part of the castle he had never been. Soon, he found himself in a long corridor; the end of which was guarded by a portrait of a very pretty female knight in glinting armor.

"My Lord," she greeted courteously. "Lady Hogwarts has asked me to welcome you on her behalf."

"Erm, thanks?" Harry replied.

"I am Dame Maude of Kent, thy humble servant."

"I didn't know there were female knights," Harry said suddenly.

"Of course, my Lord. I am of the same tradition as Joan de Arc, Maud de Braose, Nicola de la Haye, Queen Aethelburg of Wessex, Queen Emma of France, and even Eleanor of Aquitaine. I, myself, served in battle to defend this noble isle. Now, my Lord, what dost thou wish for a password?"

"Password?"

"For your new quarters, my Lord. I guard the entrance to the private chambers that were used by the Founders. As you have claimed your Lordships and ownership of the castle, you are now entitled to use the Founders' quarters. The house-elves have already moved your belongings in there. Now, my Lord, what wilt thou for a password?"

Harry thought for a moment.

"Holy Grail?" he replied with a shrug. He would only be there for one night and could change the password once he came back next year.

Maude smiled and swung the portrait forward to admit him.

The first room that Harry encountered was a large, circular common room with a round table and several large chairs; Harry supposed that this was where the Founders held their staff meetings. Then there were four additional chambers, one for each Founder. Ravenclaw's chambers were up a winding staircase into a tall tower, much like with the Ravenclaw dorms. Slytherin's chambers seemed to go down into a fairly dark and chilly space that Harry had no intention of exploring at night. Hufflepuff's rooms were just down a few short steps and were set up much like an enormous den; they seemed very warm and cozy and very feminine in style. Gryffindor's chamber was where Harry decided to spend the night; they were regal-looking and very masculine; the walls were draped in red and gold and there were numerous weapons used as decorations. It seemed as though the house-elves must have been taking good care of the place for centuries as there was no trace of mold or mildew.

Harry tucked himself into the magnificent four-poster bed and drifted off to sleep; silently wondering what sort of mayhem he would get into in the near future.

* * *

**Omake (was originally the opening for this chapter):**

Bill was slowly pacing the living room of The Burrow. Because the ritual to remove the soul fragments from the Horcruxes was to take place in a few days, he had agreed to visit his family for Easter. It wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the fact that his mother kept guilt-tripping him into staying every time he tried to go out and do something.

"It's nice having you home with us for Easter, dear," said Molly.

"It's nice to be home for Easter, Mum," Bill replied through clenched teeth.

"It's been a long time since we last had you home with us for Easter."

"I was home last Easter, Mum."

"Yes, but that was twelve months ago, dear."

Bill was halfway through giving an irritated air-punch when he let out a sigh and moved to take a seat on a nearby chair.

"Fair enough," he said. "You can't argue with that." He slapped himself on the back of his neck and stared up pleadingly at the ceiling. "Well," he declared as he moved to sit next to his mother on the sofa, "What are we going to do this evening, then?"

"We thought we'd have a nice, quiet evening at home," Molly replied.

Bill gave his leg a slight slap and then put on a forced smile.

"Really? A nice, quiet evening at home?" He stood up and turned to face the wall. "That's a bit out-of-the-blue, isn't it? You ever thought of that?"

"It'll be a nice rest for us all."

Bill then turned and leaned down to speak more clearly.

"Yes, well, I thought I'd just pop down to the pub," he said with hopeful determination.

"Because we can listen to the Wizarding Wireless," Molly continued as though she hadn't heard.

"To the pub for half-an-hour-"

"Because we don't see much of you, nowadays, dear; and, when we do, we like to spend time together…"

"Thirty minutes…"

"Because we don't see much of you, dear; and even when you are at home, dear, you never really talk to us."

Bill gave another desperate glance at the ceiling before moving back to his seat on the sofa.

"Mother," he said, "since I got home, two days ago, we have discussed (in detail) socks, keeping warm, sensible underwear, my hair being too long, the trouble Mrs. Diggory had with her Floo, what happened to the greeny-brown pullover, how I got in with the wrong set, and how much you and Dad hate me messing around with curses…which, as I pointed out, is one of the snags about my being a Curse-Breaker. We may not have discussed the moral dilemma of 20th Century Man, but we certainly have talked, Mother."

"Anyway, why do you want to go down to the pub, dear?" Molly inquired.

"Ahh, so you _did_ hear. I just want a quick drink."

Molly gave him a 'look.'

"You're no sooner home than you want to go _rushing out_, again."

"Mum, I haven't been out of the house for two days," Bill pleaded. "I only want to go to the _pub_."

"Oh, well, dear," Molly sighed, "If the pub's more important to you than your own mother…we don't see very much of and…it isn't much fun being left here with _him_." She nodded over to where Arthur was passed out in his armchair.

"Look, I shall be gone from nine 'til nine-thirty," Bill stated as he crossed his arms.

"I don't expect I shall be here much longer," Molly said in a quiet voice.

Bill gave a muffled groan.

"Well, if you go between nine and nine-thirty, that's bad luck."

Molly suddenly burst into sobs.

"Oh, God," he sighed, "she's gonna cry." He turned to his father. "Dad!" he said, jolting his father from his nap.

"Hmm?"

"Mum's going to have a cry."

"Hmm." Arthur then went right back to sleep.

"How _can_ you be so cruel?" Molly sobbed.

"Alright," Bill conceded, "alright, I'll stop being cruel. I won't go down to the pub. I'll sit at home resting." He began to glower. "I'll make a list of famous stranglers."

"Oh, that's a good idea, dear," Molly said as she dried her eyes; her tone had become much more upbeat. "I'm glad you've decided to stay."

"Yes, yes, I've decided to stay and I, uh…I don't think I'll go out; I'll sit here resting." He cleared his throat and stood up. "I'll be out of here the day after tomorrow," he muttered, "I'll use the wooden horse trick."

There was an awkward silence before Molly spoke up again.

"You're looking forward to going back to London, aren't you?" she said sadly.

"No, Mum," Bill assured her, "I-I-I love it at home; really, I have a _glorious_ time."

"You don't like it here at home."

"Yes, I do."

"No, you don't," she started to sob again.

"Oh, God," Bill groaned quietly. "Dad!"

"Hmm?"

"Number two."

"Hmm."

"L-look, Mum, I do really love it at home, I really do; it may be just a little bit quiet, but I have a lovely rest." She sobbed louder. "Mum, I-I've _got_ to go back to London, the day after tomorrow, but I-I will _try_ and get back down again, um, uh, in a fortnight."

"Oh, that'll be nice, dear," Molly instantly brightened.

"What have done?" Bill gasped. "What have I done?"

"Do try and get down on Friday night…and _not_ on Saturday morning."

"Um, y-y-yes, yes; _but-but_, I may want to go out for a meal on Saturday night."

"Alright, then. If you come down on Friday night…and go back on _Monday_ morning-"

"Done."

"After breakfast-"

"_Done_."

Molly then went back to her knitting and Bill picked up the newspaper.

"Do you care to go out on the Saturday night, dear?" Molly asked after a while.

"We made a bargain," Bill said over the top of the paper.

Molly started to give another sob.

"No, it's no good, Mum," he continued, "We made a bargain."

"Who are you going to go out _with_ on the Saturday night?" she suddenly demanded.

"Does it matter?"

"Your mother has a right to know these things."

"No, she doesn't."

Molly then resumed her sobbing.

"I shan't be with you much longer."

"No, we've had that one." As Molly's sobbing persisted, Bill gave another groan. "Oh, God. Dad!"

"Hmm?"

"Number four."

"Hmm."

"Alright, Mother, alright," Bill pleaded. "Alright, alright, Mother, alright, alright, alright, Mother, alright, I'll tell you who."

"Who?"

Bill picked the paper back up and said, "Christine Whedon."

Molly gave a look of exasperation.

"Christine Whedon?" she inquired. "You're not going to throw yourself at her _again_?"

"Mum, she _is_ Healer Whedon's daughter."

"I don't understand you, anymore." She then moved to pick up an old baby-picture of Bill. "What did we do _wrong_, Arthur?!" she exclaimed and started sobbing again.

"Oh, she's going again," Bill muttered. "Number five."

"Why do you _want_ to go out with Christine, dear?"

"What?"

"Why do you _want_ to go out with _Christine_?"

Bill took a moment before finally blurting out:

"Because she's a _loose woman_."

"Is she?" Molly gasped. "Christine?!"

"She can't get enough of it, Mother," Bill said with a smirk.

"Can't she, dear?" Molly said thoughtfully. "Look, why don't you go down to the pub? I've got one or two Floo-calls to make." She then tottered off to the fireplace.

"How _does_ her mind work?" Bill thought aloud in disbelief.

* * *

**Author's Note: And there you are. I finally got this chapter done! Hooray! It took me long enough.**** The Omake at the end is based on something from "How to Irritate People" which was a show that the Monty Python actors John Cleese, Graham Chapman, and Michael Palin acted in before the official Monty Python's Flying Circus. In light of the implications of the scene above, this chapter is dedicated to everyone who has ever been guilt-tripped into visiting by their mother (or, in my dad's case, their father).**

**Remember, folks, review carefully. Even if something sounds perfectly fine in your head, it can still come out as being rude or insensitive.**


	15. Snooker My Way

He's Not Dead Yet

**I don't own Harry Potter or Monty Python.**

Snooker My Way

Harry was in a very cheerful mood as he headed down to the train. It was the first official summer he wouldn't be spending with the Dursleys. Then it hit him, the Dursleys! He hadn't informed them he wasn't coming back. Oh well, no use worrying. Besides, it would give him the chance to tell Uncle Vernon to sod-off to his face. Anyway, back to his main train of thought. He had a long and exciting summer ahead of him. First, he was going on a three week vacation to Italy, next he would be spending time visiting his friends and learning about how to become an Animagus from Sirius, and then he was going to the Quidditch World Cup again (luckily, with the donations he made to the DMLE, the Death Eater attack would likely be put to a stop more quickly).

"Sirius is going to teach me how to become an Animagus," Harry said as the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station.

"That's wonderful, Harry," said Hermione brightly.

"You all are more than welcome to join us. Sirius said that it's actually not so hard to do once you know the easy way."

"So, it doesn't actually take years of study?" Neville said.

"Not with the Marauder Method," Harry answered. "It took three years for the Marauders to figure it out, but now it can be accomplished in a couple of months. Sirius even got permission from the Ministry for us to learn."

"It sounds like it will be fun," Luna interjected. "I love animals so much."

"Did I hear that right?" came a voice from the corridor. It was Daphne, accompanied by Tracey. "You're really going to learn how to be Animagi?"

"We sure are, Daphne," Harry replied. "You and Tracey are more than welcome, too."

Daphne and Tracey exchanged looks. This was an incredible opportunity. Tracey's grandfather had been an Animagus (though unregistered) and he had told her all about how much fun having an animal form could be. Daphne was interested because she knew that being an Animagus is a useful skill; and seeing as how Slytherins are generally ambitious, it would be something to achieve. Besides all this, the two girls knew that accepting such an opportunity would give them a chance to get closer to Harry; something both of them had been hoping for.

"You can count us in," Tracey responded.

"Excellent," said Harry.

Daphne and Tracey ended up joining them for the rest of the train ride. About twenty minutes along, a rather unwelcome guest stopped by. Ron Weasley, who had since been changed back to a human (though he still waddled a bit and occasionally had a craving for fish), pushed open the door of the compartment and sneered at its occupants.

"Well, Harry, it's such a shame that you had to go and start hanging about with losers and dirty snakes," he said, "Because, had you still been my friend, I would have invited you to come with my family to the Quidditch World Cup. Everyone who's anyone is going."

Harry gave Ron an 'I can't believe you're this stupid' look.

"For your information, _Weasley_, my godfather and I were already invited to the World Cup by the Minister, so I would have had to turn you down anyway."

Ron got an incredibly sour look on his face, like Aunt Petunia whenever Harry dared to ask a question.

"So, my family isn't good enough for the great Harry Potter to associate with, is it? Should've known this is how you'd start acting now that you're friends with _Slytherins_."

"Weasley, that isn't what it's about at all. It's because _you're_ a bigoted, selfish, and gold-digging ponce whom I deeply regret ever associating with. I bet if I had been sorted into Slytherin like the Sorting Hat wanted, then you would have bullied me. Now, get out before I do something that you'll find very unpleasant."

Ron gave a look of disgust at Harry and then rounded on Hermione.

"You're just gonna let him treat me like this?" he demanded. "Some friend _you_ are! Bet you're just hoping he'll give you some attention. After all, without us, you wouldn't even _have_ any friends."

Hermione narrowed her eyes and slowly stood up. Hermione's eyes were filled with angry sparks that made Ron take a nervous step back. Then, before anyone could realize what happened, Hermione whipped her hand back and socked Ron in the eye, sending the redhead sprawling onto the floor.

"Don't you _ever_ talk about me or Harry like that," she growled. "Harry's a better man than you could ever hope to be, Ronald Weasley. If you know what's good for you, you'll leave us alone. Now, get out."

Ron did just that and pelted out and down the corridor. Hermione sat down with a huff. Everyone stared at her for a minute before Harry spoke up.

"Nice punch."

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione replied simply, though there was still a note of irritation in her voice.

Neville decided to diffuse the tension in the carriage by asking what other plans everyone had for the summer. Luna sat there looking serene; it was so wonderful to see things working out so nicely. Daphne and Tracey were awed; they had grown up in a culture that tried to discourage women from being too strong-willed, with a few noticeable exceptions; the fact that Hermione Granger, a Muggle-born witch, had just attacked and verbally threatened the son of a pure-blood family (albeit, one that everyone hated) was completely revolutionary; and they loved it.

* * *

Soon enough, the train pulled in at King's Cross.

"Bye, Harry," Hermione said pulling him in for a hug, "See you in a few weeks."

"See ya, Harry," Neville added, "Thanks for inviting me to the World Cup. Gran wouldn't have let me go otherwise."

Luna gave Harry a hug and a light kiss on the cheek.

"Watch out for wrackspurts," she advised. "I hear that they are very fond of hiding in Italian cars."

Daphne and Tracey bid their own farewells and said they couldn't wait for those Animagi lessons. Harry was approached by numerous well-wishers.

"Harry," said a voice behind him. It was Susan Bones. "My aunt just wanted me to thank you for sending in that funding for the Auror Department. She's been worried about security for the World Cup and thanks to your donation, there are going to be plenty of Aurors on-duty. And, because of that, she agreed to let me come with her. So, I'd like to thank you as well."

"No problem, Susan," Harry said. "I was just doing what should have been done a while ago."

Susan gave Harry a grateful smile and wished him a happy summer before going off to join her aunt.

"Ready to go, Pup?" Sirius said.

"Sure."

They made their way through the barrier. As expected, Harry noticed Uncle Vernon waiting impatiently.

"Come on, boy, haven't got all day," he grunted.

"Sorry, Uncle Vernon, but I won't be going with you."

"What nonsense are you talking, boy? Stop dawdling and get moving."

"I would've sent you a note, Uncle, but I know you dislike owl-post. I'm going to live with my godfather from now on."

"You don't have a godfather."

Sirius stepped forward with a wolfish grin.

"Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, how do you do?"

Uncle Vernon stared at Sirius in horror.

"Y-you're the man from that news report! The escaped convict!"

Uncle Vernon's declaration drew a bit of attention from passersby.

"Actually, I was wrongfully accused and imprisoned without trial," Sirius responded with a shrug. "But, anyway, come on, Harry, we need to get going. The limo I rented is waiting."

Uncle Vernon's eyes went wide.

"Limo?" Harry inquired.

"Well, yes, the Ferrari's back at the Manor and I felt that a limousine would be better to get us to the airport. Now come on or we'll miss that plane to Italy."

As Harry and Sirius made their way out, Harry could've sworn that, as he glanced over his shoulder, his uncle had suddenly had a heart-attack.

* * *

Professor Charity Burbage, head of the Muggle Studies department at Hogwarts, was setting up for a vacation of her own. A couple weeks before the end of term, she had received a letter that stated, quite plainly, that if she was going to teach a class about Muggle culture then she needed to update her curriculum. The author of the note had informed her that she would be receiving a paid vacation in Muggle London with a Muggle-born to serve as tour guide. The note had also come with an assortment of Muggle magazines, some showed what type of clothing Muggles wear and others talked about recent Muggle news. Charity was rather astonished by what the Muggles had achieved in recent years; much of which already proved several of her course books out-of-date.

Charity arrived outside the Leaky Cauldron like the note had instructed. There, she was met by someone she had encountered during the recent year but had never really spoken to very much; it was one of Harry Potter's hired teachers, the rather attractive Mr. Patrick Stearns.

"How lovely to see you again, Miss Burbage," he greeted pleasantly.

"You are my tour guide for Muggle London?"

"Indeed I am. My employer felt that someone who is both knowledgeable about the Muggle world and skilled in self-defense should be perfect for escorting you around. I hope it's alright with you?"

"So, Mr.-I mean, _Lord_ Potter set all this up?"

"Sure did. He said his friend took your class and she told him that some of your information was a bit outdated. So, what better way to learn than from experience? Shall we be off? We need to check into the hotel. Tell me, have you ever been to the Savoy?"

Charity had a feeling this was going to be the best vacation she'd had in years.

* * *

Molly Weasley was very disconcerted by what her son Ronald told her when they got home. He and Harry seemed to have gotten into a fight and now there was no chance of inviting Harry over this summer; there went dozens of plans for getting Harry together with Ginny. Then there was the matter of Harry spending so much time with other girls; ever since that article that revealed Harry would need six wives, Molly was becoming worried that things weren't progressing the way she felt they should. Perhaps it was time to move on to the love potion step; she would send Harry some pastries and things for his birthday that were filled with a potion keyed to Ginny. Yes, that would work; it would have to be in slow doses so as not to arouse suspicions. Molly knew that tradition would demand that Harry take six wives, but the thought of her daughter as the Lady of all those family titles and all the money that came with it was enough for her to decide that the tradition was far too old-fashioned and that Harry would only need one wife; that wife, in her opinion, meaning Ginny.

Then there was the trouble Ronald was having with that girl Hermione; Molly knew the girl was very smart and sensible, she would be perfect for keeping Ronald in line and maybe helping him get through his schoolwork. Obviously, the little spat they had gotten into was a lover's tiff; a few love potions could clear all that right up.

Another note of annoyance for Molly Weasley was the fact that her recently-graduated son, Percy, had decided to move out and get his own apartment. She had deeply hoped that he would continue to live at home for a while, but he said he needed to be close to his new job and because his girlfriend lived very near to where he would be staying. Oh well, Molly thought to herself, it would be a small price to pay if Percy has a decent job at the Ministry and marries his girlfriend sometime during the coming year. Of course, there was the downside that Bill had decided to stay at Percy's apartment until he could get his own residence now that Gringotts had given him that promotion to the senior staff because of his outstanding performance in whatever mission it was that he had been brought back to England for.

Well, at least she had the return of her sons for the Quidditch World Cup to look forward to. It will be so nice to have everyone home again.

* * *

A few days later at a local pub.

"Hello, Tonks!" exclaimed a certain ginger-haired legal secretary.

"Red, how are you?" her friend replied.

"I'm great, thanks for asking. Haven't seen you since that ball at Potter Manor."

"Wonderful, wasn't it?"

"Yes. How's the life of an Auror treating you?"

"Fantastic. Join me in a drink?"

"Sure, I'll take a grappa. It's a kind of Italian liquor I'm very partial to now and again."

The two witches sat down. Red took a sip of her drink.

"Any good?" asked Tonks.

"Terrible. Tastes like paint-thinner."

"That's disgusting."

"Time for another one."

The two then got to reminiscing about their school days.

"Did you ever get in contact with Charlie?" Tonks inquired. "Only, I know you had it bad for him."

Red gave her friend a slight glare.

"I told you once before, Charlie Weasley is nothing more than one of our old friends to me," Red replied firmly. "I'm sure he's already got girls lining up to date him."

"I dunno, Red. From what I hear he's still single. Maybe you should send him an owl."

Red then gave a smirk.

"What about you and that Remus Lupin fellow?" said Red, hoping to change the subject. "You seemed very interested in him at the ball."

"Say one word about that and I'll do you for treason," Tonks replied blushing.

"I never took you as the type to go for an older guy. And a werewolf, too. Of course, you always did like to walk on the wild side, didn't you, Tonksie?"

Tonks' hair had changed a bright red from embarrassment.

"Keep talking and I assure you that you'll be slit up a treat," she threatened.

Red simply rolled her eyes. Tonks had always liked quiet, sensitive guys who had a sense of humor and a bit of ruggedness to them. Under normal circumstances, Red couldn't exactly see how her friend would have ever even met Professor Lupin, let alone end up dating him, but Tonks had never been what one would call 'normal.' _Probably all that Black family blood in her_, Red thought, _they are a rather odd bunch_.

Tonks, however, returned to the subject of Red's old crush on Charlie Weasley.

"Why don't you invite him to stay with your family for the Quidditch Cup this summer?" she suggested. "If I remember him correctly, he will take any means of getting out of staying with his parents."

Both girls winced as they remembered Molly Weasley; the woman was infamous as the most overbearing mother to ever send children to Hogwarts. Charlie had been a friend of Tonks and Red when they were at school and they distinctly remembered him asking to come and stay with their families during holidays as often as he could.

"Okay, I'll invite him to stay," Red conceded. "But, it's only because no one should suffer the horrors of Molly Weasley."

"Sure it is," Tonks said with a grin.

Red then went a bit cross-eyed.

"Tonks, I do believe the grappa has finally gotten to me; I can't see a blasted thing. Could you be so kind as to escort me home?"

"Of course, old girl."

"When we get there, could you also help me give Reginald his mandies?"

"Are you giving that tiger of yours drugs?"

"Of course I'm giving it drugs."

"It's illegal."

"You try telling that to the tiger."

"Well, I think it's dangerous."

"Look, Tonks, before Reginald started fixing, he used to get through three Jehovah's Witnesses a day. And he'd eat _all_ of 'em." She then took a moment to think. "Well, except for the pamphlets."

"Well, he's not stupid, I'll give him that. But, what kind of lawyer's daughter gives illegal drugs to a tiger?"

"The same type of lawyer's daughter who just drank paint-thinner from a fancy bottle."

"Touché."

* * *

Meanwhile, in a beautiful country known as Italy, Harry Potter was currently having one of the best summers ever. It was just him, Sirius, Remus, and Sirius' girlfriend, Professor Babbling. Sirius had insisted that they do their touring the Muggle way; even if it meant traffic and aggressive drivers. Sirius was taking every opportunity to soak up some sun or drive around on one of those motor-scooters that pretty much everyone drove in Italy (he especially liked being able to drive about 150mph on the autostrada). Remus apparently knew a great deal about the magical and Muggle history of the Roman Empire and was giving detailed stories about practically every place they visited. Professor Babbling, on the other hand, taught Harry all about the magical symbols of the Roman wizards, especially those found in the catacombs.

There had been a slight detour when they had gotten lost after they had stopped to see the Tower of Pisa; however, it turned out for the best as they stumbled across an excellent terme (a thermal spa situated over natural mineral springs) in the middle of nowhere. The following day they found themselves at a small coastal town known as Populonia; high upon the cliff was an old fortress and in the surrounding area there were a number of Etruscan tombs.

"Actually, I'm rather glad we got lost," Harry said as they drove out of sight.

What followed were further wacky adventures, touring ancient sites, catching some sun and waves on the beaches, and eating some of the best food in the world.

By the time they got back, they were tanned, tired, and Sirius was a bit wacked out from the limoncello he'd bought in Sorrento.

* * *

The group of young Hogwarts students gathered in the main sitting room of Potter Manor for their first lesson in Animagus transformation. Sirius looked upon his young students with pride.

"The Animagus transformation is one of the most complex and challenging pieces of transfiguration magic you will ever attempt," he said. "At least, that was before the Marauders came along. Together, James and I developed a whole new method to the process. It requires concentration and a good deal of meditation. Contrary to what most would tell you, becoming an Animagus is actually much easier to achieve when you're young because your body is still changing. Now, the first thing you do…"

Sirius took them through the basic steps. The first thing they had to do was find their inner animal through extensive meditation. Daphne was the first to make serious progress.

"It's a four-legged animal," she said as she knelt on the floor, eyes closed and deep in concentration as everyone watched her. "It's big, and it has claws." Her shoulders contorted a bit and her face scrunched up a few times. That's when her eyes shot wide open.

"Daph, your eyes," Tracey gasped.

"What about them?"

"They're…um…"

Daphne's eyes, a deep shade of aquamarine, were glowing faintly; the pupils were big and there was a sort of silver ring around her irises. Then, Daphne gave a slight wince and opened her mouth as her canines began to enlarge into fangs.

"Careful now," Sirius cautioned. "Don't rush the transformation."

But Daphne was losing control over it. She leaned back on her haunches as the nails on her hands shifted into black claws.

"Daphne!" Tracey shouted with worry.

Sirius ushered everyone back as they watched, terrified, as Daphne's form began to shift. Quick as a flash, Daphne was gone, and there, in her place, stood a large, black panther with a light streak of barley-blonde fur along the ridge of its back.

"Wow," Sirius said. "Well done, Daphne."

Daphne seemed to gain control over her senses as she looked at them in puzzlement.

"Daphne, are you all right?" Harry asked.

The panther-Daphne gave a nod.

"Daphne," Tracey said again, "you're…gorgeous."

Daphne seemed to look rather smug at the praise.

"Okay," Sirius said, "now focus on changing back, please. I'd hate to have to face Cyrus Greengrass with the news that I got his daughter turned into a panther and she can't change back."

Daphne closed her eyes in concentration again. Then, very slowly, she shifted back into human form.

It took a few more weeks until the rest found their inner animals; though Hermione and Tracey were the next ones to make the full transformation. Hermione discovered she could turn into a squirrel with an exceptionally bushy tail, and Tracey soon followed by transforming into a Tasmanian devil (much to everyone's amusement).

"I think you look cute, Trace," Daphne chuckled.

The Tasmanian devil-Tracey simply glared at her friend.

Harry was, oddly enough, the last to make the transformation. Luna and Neville got it a few days before him, turning into a white rabbit and an anteater, respectively. Harry's Animagus form, however, was a little bit different.

The first thing he knew was that he was a bird of some sort. He felt his body shrinking and he saw his arms become covered in bluish-black, grey, and white feathers. It was not the most pleasant of sensations, changing into an animal, but soon he had transformed all the way. Hermione held up a mirror so that Harry could see himself.

"You're a Peregrine Falcon, Harry," she explained. "They are remarkable creatures. They can reach faster speeds than any animal on the planet, they are remarkable hunters, they have been used in falconry for over three thousand years, and are considered the bird of princes because of its association with nobility. It was once said that the Peregrine Falcon was 'armed more by its courage than its claws.'"

Harry looked at himself in the mirror. He noted that, in his bird form, he seemed to have dark feathers around his eyes, which were still green, that gave him a bespectacled look and on his back were several white feathers that seemed to resemble a lightning bolt. Harry chuckled internally; apparently he couldn't escape his scar even in his Animagus form.

* * *

Of course, the summer was interrupted slightly by Snape's trial. Amelia Bones had gotten as much information out of the ex-professor as she could, and had to be restrained by her Aurors when Snape revealed his involvement in the deaths of several of her loved-ones; when Snape had mentioned his responsibility for the death of Michael McKinnon (Amelia's former fiancé) and his sister Marlene, the Aurors weren't fast enough in restraining Amelia as she launched herself at Snape's throat and began to strangle him.

When the day of the trial came, Dumbledore had approached Harry and asked him if he would consider asking for clemency on Snape's behalf. Harry nearly passed out he was laughing so hard. By the end of the trial, Snape was sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban, despite the demand for the Dementor's Kiss from several of the families who had lost people they cared about thanks to Snape. Naturally, Dumbledore came under criticism for hiring Snape to teach at Hogwarts; the things that man had done were beyond the pale and many of the worst of his crimes were committed against Muggle or Muggle-born children, making him unfit to even _look_ at a child let alone teach a school full of them.

* * *

With a blaring roar from a horn, a large RV pulled into the packed campsite. This wouldn't have been so unusual were it not for the fact that very few people there actually knew what an RV even was.

"I think you're enjoying this too much," Harry said as Sirius blasted the horn again.

"Let him have his fun, Harry," said Hermione, ruffling his hair. "It's like watching an overgrown kid with a new toy."

Harry and Sirius had had the great idea of showing up to the World Cup in a Muggle RV; of course, Sirius had added a few 'adjustments' to the vehicle. Several floors, a pool table, a bar, a giant television, and many more additions had been made to the seemingly ordinary RV. When Hermione had first seen it, she made a reference to a certain television show about the RV being "bigger on the inside."

"Why don't you lot go out and have a look around while we park?" suggested Bathsheba. Since the end of summer, Professor Babbling and Sirius had been spending a great deal of time together.

Harry, Hermione, and Neville hopped out of the RV, all of them grinning.

"Remember," Sirius called after them, "we're in the lot right next to the path."

One of the great things about becoming a Lord was that so many things seemed to go so well, Harry thought. Sirius and Harry had been personally invited to the World Cup by the Minister himself, along with any guests they requested.

The excitement surrounding the World Cup was just as Harry remembered; the Irish showing off with their copious green shamrocks, the Bulgarians with their posters of Viktor Krum. As the three walked around, they encountered many familiar faces; they had met up with Luna fairly quickly and she joined their group (she and her father were staying in a tent that was shaped much in the same fashion as their house); Neville had blushed bright red when they were greeted by Hannah Abbott a little farther on; they had also been accosted by Cho Chang, who had given Luna a fairly contemptuous look and then attempted to get Harry to join her and her friends, though she was unsuccessful. A little ways on, they were greeted by Fay Dunbar and her mother.

"Hello, guys," she said smiling. "Quite the turnout this."

"We've been here for a week," added Mrs. Dunbar. "Hell of a time getting tickets for it, I tell you." Fay's mother looked much like Fay herself; she was very tall with a strong build, and had long dark brown hair and blue eyes. Also like Fay, Mrs. Dunbar seemed to have a great appreciation for sports, especially Quidditch. "I fancy that the Irish will take a good lead. The Bulgarians are known to play dirty so there will probably be a number of fouls. I remember a very similar situation when my husband Malcolm took me to see a football match. Seeing as how many of us love Quidditch like Muggles love football, we'll be staying on our guard in case of a riot."

"Oh, this is my brother, Elliot Dunbar," Fay said. She stepped aside to show a young boy that none of them had noticed before. He was probably no older than five and looked very shy.

"Hello," Harry said to the child who looked about ready to duck behind his sister again. "Do you like Quidditch, too?"

Little Elliot gave Harry a toothy grin and nodded; suddenly, the boy launched himself at Harry's legs and hugged him.

"Well, you certainly made a good impression on him," said Fay, laughing warmly. "He's usually terrified of people he hasn't met."

Elliot then looked up at Harry and said:

"You're the boy my sister likes, aren't you?"

Fay then froze.

"Elliot," she hissed.

"He is him, isn't he, Fay?" Elliot continued with a bigger smile.

"Oh, would you look at the time," Fay exclaimed. "We really should get started on dinner. See you all later."

With that, Fay grabbed her little brother by the hand and began to march back to their tent, their mother following after them.

"Well, someone's popular," Neville chuckled at Harry's expression.

Harry lightly elbowed his friend in the side.

They proceeded onwards until they reached the RV which had a crowd of curious onlookers around it.

"Parked alright?" Harry asked Sirius.

"He had a bit of trouble," Remus stated.

"It wasn't my fault!" Sirius protested.

"What happened?" asked Hermione.

"Padfoot over here thought it would be funny to try and run down any Death Eaters who showed up," Remus replied.

"Well, they were asking for it," Sirius stated firmly. "They dared to mock the brilliance that is my RV. Stuck-up, bigoted arseholes that have no appreciation for the finer points of Muggle technology."

"Amelia Bones issued him a warning," Bathsheba added. "It's only because she wishes it was her that ran down those Death Munchers that she didn't arrest him."

"It's a good thing she's such a cool Head of the DMLE," Harry said.

"Why thank you, Lord Potter," came a familiar voice from behind him causing everyone to jump. It was Amelia Bones and Susan. "Lord Black, I trust you've desisted from your hit-and-run activities?"

"Amy, I am offended that you would ever think that I would intentionally harm innocent bystanders," Sirius responded with mock-hurt.

Amelia rolled her eyes. Susan greeted the others and the teenagers all moved off to talk about the match that would be occurring in just a few more hours.

"You know who's also here, Sirius?" Amelia continued. "Barty Crouch."

The three other adults looked irritated.

"You mean the bastard who put Sirius behind bars without a trial?" asked Remus.

"The very same."

"What's _he_ doing here?" Sirius added. "I thought he wouldn't be showing his face in public again after being disgraced for that little _faux pas_."

"Believe me he's only just managed to keep a hold on his job," Amelia said, "Especially after the additional investigations."

"What investigations?"

"Haven't you heard? We've been doing a check on the records and interrogations of the prisoners at Azkaban. Apparently, you weren't the only one thrown in there without due process. Unfortunately, a couple of Death Eaters managed to worm their way out of prison because they were never convicted and so we were forced to let them go."

"Damn."

"My sentiments exactly."

"What can be done?" asked Bathsheba.

"We just need to keep our eyes open. Those Death Eaters take one step out of line and I'll have their arses back in Azkaban before they can blink."

They continued in this conversation for some time. Meanwhile, Harry spotted a familiar face.

"Hey, Cedric," Harry called over.

The Hufflepuff Seeker turned and waved at Harry.

"Hey, Harry!"

Cedric approached them, and he wasn't alone.

"I think you all know Justine Max?" Cedric continued. "My girlfriend."

"Hi," Justine said with a shy smile.

"Justine was telling me about a weird dream she had the other night." Cedric smirked.

"Ced, I really don't think they want to hear-"

"Come on, it's funny."

"Okay. I had this nightmare that Cedric got murdered by You-Know-Who."

"Yeah, isn't that…odd," Harry said shiftily.

"It gets weirder. Instead of dying, he came back as a vampire; but, get this, he _sparkled_."

"Sparkled?" everyone choked.

"When the sun hit him, yes. He also didn't have fangs, or drink human blood. It really ruined the seriousness of the situation."

"Wait, how can something be a vampire if it doesn't have fangs or burst into flames when the sun hits it?" Hermione asked.

"And what sort of vampire doesn't drink human blood?" Susan added.

"A fairy?" Harry suggested.

They all laughed good-naturedly.

* * *

Soon, dusk fell and they all began to make their way down the path to the stadium. Harry, Sirius, Hermione, Neville, Bathsheba, and Remus bid farewell to their friends and made their way up to the Minister's box where they were greeted by the man in question. However, just like last time, the Weasleys were also there and they had brought along…Red?

"Hey, Harry," Red greeted.

"Hi, Red, what are you doing here?" Harry replied.

"Charlie's an old friend. Nice to see you again. Hello, Lord Black."

"Why must _everyone_ call me that?" Sirius sighed.

Harry then went through the process of being greeted by all the Weasleys, except Ron who just glared at him and Hermione. Bill had apparently been promoted and would be in Britain for a while; Percy had started working with Josiah Prewett in the Accounting section of Bayly, Black, and Prewett; Charlie made a few subtle hints about the upcoming Triwizard Tournament; and Ginny had grabbed Harry in a hug that made him feel very uncomfortable and caused Hermione to scowl.

The group in the box was soon joined by the Malfoys, who looked particularly sullen when they caught sight of Sirius. Mr. Malfoy seemed particularly agitated; Harry guessed that he was beginning to have his doubts about the little Death Eater parade that was scheduled for later. Draco appeared to be desperate to make some sort of snide comment to Harry, but directed his attention to Ron instead.

"Oi, Weasley," he said, "what'd you have to sell to get tickets up here? You don't exactly own anything worth what these seats cost."

"Shut up, Malfoy," Ron snapped.

Harry tuned out what they were saying. He wondered, for a moment, whether the two would get into a fight and end up falling over the railing. That would certainly be worth watching. Harry had also noticed, in the seat behind them, that Winky the house-elf was there. And then it hit him, he had forgotten to deal with Crouch Jr. Harry was immediately thankful for the wand-holster that Remus had gotten him for his birthday; otherwise, he would've had to deal with losing his wand again, and he wasn't about to let _that_ happen. He supposed he could deal with Crouch later; after all, he had no need to impersonate Moody this year as there was no reason for Remus not to return to the DADA position.

It was time for the Quidditch World Cup to begin. Ludo Bagman stepped forward to introduce the mascots.

"Neville, word of warning," said Harry, "put your fingers in your ears."

"Why -?"

"Just do it, and quick."

Harry and Neville both put their fingers in their ears as the veela, the Bulgarian mascots, began to perform their routine. Harry and Neville were two of only a handful of men who didn't try to throw themselves over the bannister to get to the veela. Harry noticed that Charlie Weasley seemed strangely unaffected as Red held his hand.

Once the performance was over, the leprechauns rocketed out to show off their support for Ireland. This was followed by the arrival of the teams.

"Theeeeeeeey're OFF!" screamed Bagman. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

It was an even better experience the second time.

"I'm hungry," Sirius said after a while. "I wish they had vendors up here."

As if he'd said the magic words, a shout rang out behing them.

"Albatross!"

Sirius turned around and saw a very unattractive woman standing there. She had a small vendor's cart, on top of which was a giant bird.

"Albatross?" she offered.

"Uh, no thanks, what else is there?" said Sirius.

"I 'aven't got anything else!" the woman snapped. "I only got the albatross! Albatross!"

"Well, what flavor is it?"

"It's a bird, innit?! It's a bloody sea bird. It's not any bloody flavor. Albatross!"

"Do you get wafers with it?"

"'Course ya don't get bloody wafers with it! Albatross! Get it on a stick!"

"How much do you want for it?"

"Three knuts."

"I'll have two please."

Harry shook his head as he returned to watching the game. All too soon it was over. Ireland had once again won, even though Krum caught the Snitch.

"Vell, ve fought bravely," said a gloomy voice behind Harry. He looked around; it was the Bulgarian Minister of Magic.

"You can speak English!" said Fudge, sounding outraged. "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!"

"Veil, it vos very funny," said the Bulgarian minister, shrugging.

As they all headed out after the cup was awarded, Harry was quickly sidetracked by Fred and George.

"Thanks for the tip, Harry," said Fred.

"Made us quite a bit of cash, that did," George added.

"The goblins owe us quite a good deal from that wager we made."

"Granted, it's probably not enough to get our joke-shop up and running, but it will help."

"Don't worry, guys," Harry said, "I'm sure that you'll do great with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

* * *

A few hours later, Harry was being woken up by the unmistakable sound of shouts. Of course, the Death Eaters were at it again.

"Sirius," Harry said to the Marauder behind the steering wheel of the RV, "I do believe it's time for some fun."

With Sirius preoccupied with running down Death Eaters with the RV, Harry set off to deal with them head on, backed by Hermione, Remus, and Bathsheba (Hermione had refused, point blank, to wait in the RV where it was 'safe'; safe being a relative word with Sirius behind the wheel).

What followed were some truly exciting and very expensive fight scenes in which a number of the Death Eaters got rounded up by the Aurors and the other good guys. Harry, who knew the Aurors couldn't attack too strongly for fear of allowing the Muggles the Death Eaters were levitating to fall to their deaths, had come to the clever idea of casting a Suspension Spell that made sure the Roberts family (the Muggles who were being victimized) were safe so that the Aurors could launch a beat-down on the Death Eaters. As Harry's back was turned, one Death Eater had been about to sneak up on him only to be suddenly run over by Sirius in the RV.

"Well, well, well," Sirius said when he looked out the window at the not-at-all-well Death Eater, if it isn't old Lucy." Sure enough, Lucius Malfoy was lodged beneath the very large and very heavy vehicle, with a look of pain and terror on his face.

Unfortunately, before the Aurors could remove Malfoy from his position of being wedged beneath the fenders of the enormous vehicle, the bastard managed to Disapperate.

"Oh, bloody hell!" Sirius shouted in frustration. "He's done it again!"

"Not to worry, Lord Black," said Minister Fudge, who had just arrived on the scene. "I'm not going to let him get out of this! I assure you that Lucius Malfoy will be a top-priority."

"Thanks, Minister, that makes me feel so much better," said Sirius, not sounding convinced at all.

* * *

**Author's Note: Has anyone ever noticed how, in Monty Python, the name 'Arthur' is used about fifty times? Seriously, it's like the most popular name for characters in their skits.**

**That passage about Harry in Italy was based on when my family and I went to Italy last year. Populonia is absolutely gorgeous and that old castle/fortress is simply fascinating; it doesn't even have safety rails along the battlements, you just have to be smart enough not to try and jump down from them. Italy is one of my favorite countries ever; the food is to die for, it's as if serving a bad meal there is a capital offence. The only thing that really bothered my parents and my cousin was the Amalfi Road which is a simply terrifying drive; I wasn't too bothered by it as we had a very skilled driver (she would have her cellphone in one hand, be gesturing with the other, and control the steering-wheel with her knees). We even stopped in Lucca, where some of my mother's ancestors (the Balbani family) were from. Italy is the ideal place for lovers of history, cuisine, landscaping, art, architecture, religious experience, and shopping. Florence was one of my favorite sites; they have the most wonderful steaks I have ever eaten and their gelato is like chilled frosting. **

**Okay, I'm starting to act a bit like an advertiser for Italian holidays; I should probably stop that now.**

**My apologies to anyone who likes Twilight if you found that subtle jab offensive.**

**I was originally going to have Harry's Animagus form be an albatross, but that ruined the potential for the inclusion of the snack vendor selling the albatross to the audience members at the World Cup. Instead, I chose to make Harry a peregrine falcon because it was one of the suggestions I found where someone asked what sort of Animagus Harry should be.**

**Hope you all noticed what's going on between Red and Charlie. That's because I have the biggest crush on him; even though we hardly know anything about Charlie, I can just imagine how cool he must be (if, you know, he existed outside of the HP-verse and fanfiction).**


	16. Owl-Stretching Time

He's Not Dead Yet

**Remember, I don't own Harry Potter or Monty Python.**

**Oh, also, there will be a detailed look at the journals of Salazar Slytherin (Bet you all didn't think that would come up again).**

Owl-Stretching Time

Also that summer, Harry's publication of the Slytherin Journals was all set to be released to the public. Harry had even made a deal with a Muggle publishing company, who thought the books were simply fantasy novels, to release them to the Muggle world. When the books were distributed to stores, they sold out almost immediately. Everyone seemed eager to know the truth about the 'Darkest of the Hogwarts founders.' What was revealed to the public was a man who had experienced a painfully hard life amidst the cruel oppression of the witch-hunts.

His father, Giseric, was a hard man who seemed incapable of showing affection. His mother, Orla, had died when Salazar was only eight. Salazar and his younger brother Arawn were sent into the apprenticeship of the most powerful warlock of the time, Corinth Emmeris. At the same time, they learned swordsmanship from Lord Alberic Gryffindor, father of Godric Gryffindor who soon became good friends with Salazar.

When Salazar was seventeen, he was presented at the magical court along with Godric; while there, they met Rowena Eaglewood (later Ravenclaw). Rowena was a very outspoken and opinionated woman who contested the sexist laws at the time and fought tooth-and-nail to try and stop her father arranging a marriage for her to the heir of Ravenclaw; however, her attempts failed and she had been forced into a loveless marriage that ended in disaster.

Salazar and Godric began a campaign to rescue new-bloods (the old word for Muggle-borns) from the hands of the witch-hunters. During a raid on a prison in Germany, where the young men were studying at the time, Salazar found a shut-off tower area where a young Helga Gutenberg (later Hufflepuff) was sick and injured. Helga had been a prisoner for thirteen years, ever since her family saw her perform accidental magic; she had been subjected to frequent torture and even sexual abuse from the prison guards. Salazar blasted open the cell and brought the frail Helga back to the castle where he and Godric were staying. Salazar became a kind of life-line for Helga and the two became like siblings. When they brought Helga to Britain, she began to study Earth Magic and Healing, things which she excelled at.

Salazar and Godric were reunited with Rowena when they found her on the run from her husband; she was pregnant with her second child at the time. The four arrived at Slytherin Castle, only to be met with the news from Salazar's brother Arawn that their father had been killed by witch-hunters while trying to protect their sister Morrigan, who was now near death herself. Salazar had to watch as his little sister slowly faded away.

Salazar, Godric, Helga, and Rowena soon began to make plans to protect the magical children of Britain and started work on a castle in Rowena's homeland of Scotland where there seemed to be much less prejudice against magic as much of the land was still deeply rooted in the druidic tradition. Thus, Hogwarts was born.

The journals revealed the intrigue of life in the magical court of the Dark Ages. Salazar had married a young woman from an old but poor magical family and had several children. His wife seemed to be quite cunning herself as she helped him through the political jungle they had to navigate. Arawn Slytherin seemed to stir up a great deal of trouble because of how stubborn he could be, and because there was a rumor circulating that he was having an affair with Rowena, something that both Salazar and Rowena's husband believed to be true. Although Rowena despised her husband, she was furious and insulted when he abandoned her and their children to run off with a prostitute. Further problems arose when Arawn's son Edgar became obsessed with Rowena's daughter Helena, who did not return his affections.

Helga was later introduced to a young Llewellyn Hufflepuff, a new-blood from Wales who had become Britain's leading expert on Herbology. Salazar paid for the couple's wedding and stood in place of Helga's father during the ceremony. Llewellyn Hufflepuff became the first Herbology teacher at Hogwarts, with Helga serving as the school nurse and the Healing instructor.

After about ten years of relative quiet, a threat to Britain arose in the form of an invasion from an army of Vikings who had decided to go one better than simply raiding the coastal towns. Along with the invaders was an elite force of Viking soothsayers and battle-mages. The Hogwarts founders armed themselves and led a magical force against the invasion, beating back their foes. The English king at the time, a young Edward the Confessor, was so grateful that he began to set up laws to protect the magicals. It was from that time onward that the witch-hunts died down (only to recommence during the beginning of the Renaissance upon the accession of Henry VII to the throne, and again during the Stuart Era).

Salazar Slytherin's final journal revealed that age had at last taken its toll and he wanted nothing more than to retire to his castle with his wife.

The Slytherin Journals would remain the magical world's bestseller for a long time, and they were even more of a hit in the Muggle world. Harry used some of the profit to replenish the Slytherin family vault, which had been seriously depleted over the years; the rest, however, he set aside to fund some new programs for Hogwarts, a number of which would help the Muggle-born and raised.

* * *

Molly Weasley was very annoyed. She had sent a ton of pastries to Harry on his birthday that all contained a dosage of love potion keyed to Ginny. The fact that Harry simply responded to her gift with a note of thanks instead of a long letter pleading to come to The Burrow to talk to Ginny was the cause of much vexation for the portly red-head. To make matters worse, she completely ruined the next batch of love potion, stronger than the last one, because that infernal portrait of her late mother-in-law kept making silly noises that distracted her. It was Molly's deepest belief that the reason Fred and George were such ne'er-do-wells was because of Cedrella Weasley; the older woman had taken it upon herself to teach the twins the 'joys' of pranking years ago when she had conjured a swarm of fruit-bats to wreak mayhem in the kitchen when Molly was trying to cook Christmas dinner. Okay, so Molly had undermined Cedrella's authority in her own home by claiming the right to make the Christmas dinner, but that was no excuse.

Molly fully intended to see her daughter become Harry's girlfriend by the end of the coming year. Ginny was equipped with a large range of different love potions to use on Harry; hopefully one would be successful.

* * *

September 1st dawned bright and early. The ride on the Hogwarts Express was not as interesting this time around as it was in the old timeline, not that Harry was complaining. Harry had been wondering how Draco Malfoy would react to him since dear old Lucius was now on the run. Oddly enough, Malfoy seemed to be very quiet in regards to Harry; Harry supposed it was because Draco had believed his father to be practically invincible and the shock of him being named a convict made him decide to keep his head down (with the exception of baiting Ron).

The end of the Quidditch World Cup did involve the Dark Mark being conjured, though Harry found out that it was Ron's wand that had been stolen and used to perform the spell. Harry knew he needed to be watchful of whatever Crouch Jr. might be up to this time around. Luckily, he had an idea for how to ensure his name didn't come out of the Goblet of Fire.

The only thing to cause any sort of excitement that day was that it had started pouring rain. Peeves had welcomed everyone by pelting them with water-balloons. However, for some reason, Peeves didn't seem to launch any at Harry or his friends; on the other hand, he took particular care to make sure that he got Ron and Malfoy right over their heads, repeatedly.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts," announced Dumbledore once dinner had been finished, though his cheerful attitude seemed very forced. "I have few start-of-term notices to make." He went through the standard rules and such.

"Anyone seen Filch?" said Fred while Dumbledore was rambling.

"Filch won't be working here anymore," said Harry smugly. "I found that he was unsuitable to work in a school in addition to the fact that Hogwarts actually had no need for a caretaker as the house-elves manage the cleaning and cooking and general maintenance. Therefore, Filch has been sacked."

"That's rather harsh, Harry," said Hermione.

"Don't worry; I managed to find him a job that he actually likes doing." Harry had figured that someone like Filch would be much better suited to working as caretaker of Azkaban Prison; however, Harry never expected the letter of thanks for providing the man with the "best job in the world" that Filch had sent him.

This statement received much rejoicing from the students who heard it and then promptly shared it with everyone else.

Dumbledore soon reached his final announcement of the evening, the Triwizard Cup. Once everyone had settled down, Dumbledore seemed to be about to dismiss them.

"Before you conclude, Headmaster, I have a few things to add," Harry declared and strode up to the podium. Dumbledore was very put-out, but moved aside when he caught the warning look on McGonagall's face. "For those who don't know, my name is Lord Harry James Potter and I am the owner of this school." Dumbledore seemed ready to protest, but McGonagall stamped on his foot, painfully, to keep him from doing something. "Effective this year are some changes to the way this school operates. Visits to Hogsmeade are now open to all year groups provided you get your form signed and will take place every weekend as long as the students do not misuse this privilege." There were huge cheers at that.

"We also have a few staff changes." He gestured towards the row of new teachers. "Mr. Preston has agreed to become the full-time Potions professor in light of the arrest of Severus Snape." This was met with boisterous cheers from everyone who had hated Snape.

"In addition, the History of Magic course has been altered dramatically. Please join me in welcoming the new History department." Several of the new professors stood. "Professors Eversley, Homer, and Phipps will be in charge of the new history courses. Ancient History and World History will be taught by Professor Homer as electives for third year and up, as well as the new Ethics course which will be a required course. Professor Eversley is taking over the History of Magic class and will also be in charge of the optional Political Science class. Professor Phipps will be teaching Modern History, British History, and Women's History. You will be able to choose which history course you wish to take each year.

"We also have Dr. Thripshaw, who has kindly agreed to offer his services as our new Biology professor and head of the science department. Potions, Chemistry, Biology, Physics, Astronomy, and Alchemy all fall under this category. Please welcome our new Chemistry teacher, Miss Curie, our new Physics teacher, Mr. Cavendish, and our returning Alchemy teacher, Miss Ripley. Because of the addition of the new Science courses, you are required to have one non-magical science each year. Those who do not wish to pursue a career involving knowledge of potions are permitted to drop the class at the end of fourth year, but they must still have at least one non-magical science. Alchemy will be available as an extension of Potions.

"There has also been a newly-added Arts department. This encompasses Drawing, Painting, Performing Arts, Music, and Magical Photography." Colin Creevey looked over-the-moon when he heard the last course on that list. Harry then moved on to introducing the new teachers of the arts.

Harry then progressed through several other new courses.

"There will be an Introduction to the Magical World course that is required for all students of non-magical background or upbringing that will be taught by Dame Irene Stoat. Professor Burbage has also asked me to announce that she has overhauled the Muggle Studies class and changed it to Non-Magical Relations, which is now mandatory for those who were not raised in a non-magical environment." Some of the pure-blood bigots protested at that. Harry quickly silenced them. "It is important to understand how closely we are connected to the non-magical world and how to deal with moving about in it. At the Quidditch World Cup this past summer, I noticed that the Statute of Secrecy came very close to being broken and that was before the Death Eaters showed up.

"There are also a number of extra-curriculars being added. Mr. Stearns has agreed to offer Occlumency classes as well as continue instruction in the Defense Club." There were wildly loud cheers at the news that Defense Club would be continuing. "He has also agreed to serve as a secondary Defense Against the Dark Arts professor in addition to Professor Lupin." Harry then went through the new extra-curriculars, including sports teams and clubs, only concluding when he reached the subject of Quidditch. "As there will be no Inter-House Quidditch Cup this year, I am pleased to announce that there will be a Quidditch Club that will allow students to form their own teams and play in scheduled matches."

This was met with the loudest applause so far. So many of the students had nothing to do as the only really big thing Hogwarts had to offer was Quidditch, and even that was restricted to seven students from each House. Hogwarts didn't even have a school play as the last time that had happened it had ended in disaster.

"Before we leave for the evening, there are also a few new policies," Harry continued. "First and most important of all is that we have zero-tolerance for bullies. Anyone found violating this will face expulsion at worst depending on the severity. Next, we will be issuing progress-reports; these will inform students of what things they need to improve on and what their strengths are; they will be distributed at the end of the first semester. It has also been decided that there will be a revision of the prefect system to ensure that those gifted with the badge were deserving of it; should anyone be found to be abusing their position, they will be relieved of their duties. There is also a new policy on detentions and the awarding and docking of House points."

To sum up Harry's new policy, detentions had to be approved by both the student's Head of House and the Deputy in order to prevent unfair or biased professors from getting away with things like Snape had done. The same would apply with the new demerit system; the three strikes and you're out would be much more effective and much more fair than the House points. Speaking of House points, they would no longer be in effect and would be replaced by Awards of Merit. Students with the highest achievements in each year, House, and subject would receive a special award at the end of the year. Even the students felt that it sounded much better than the House Cup as it was on a more personal level and wouldn't cause students to be ostracized for losing too many points (like what happened to Harry and his friends in first year).

Dumbledore was absolutely furious. Harry had just undone centuries of tradition and basically undermined Dumbledore's authority as Headmaster.

"Harry, you cannot possibly think you can make all these changes without the approval of the Board of Governors-" he started.

"You will address me as Lord Potter, _sir_," Harry retorted. "And I think you'll find that the Board no longer has any say in the matter as it has been disbanded. The Board of Governors was put in place as an advisory, but they have failed in their responsibilities and I ordered their immediate disbandment. They have been replaced by the Parent and Teacher Association, of which all the members agreed to the changes and many of whom suggested them to me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get to bed."

All the original professors were glaring at Dumbledore. They couldn't believe the bullshit he'd tried to pull. All of them had been at the PTA meeting where these changes began and they agreed wholeheartedly with Harry's new policies. Hogwarts was due for an overhaul.

Harry simply made his way out of the Great Hall, ignoring the curious looks he was getting, and led his three closest friends out with him. Harry had told Hermione, Luna, and Neville about the Founders' Quarters and invited them to stay there with him. Hermione had been immediately drawn to Ravenclaw's chambers and darted up the steps, Luna following quickly behind her. The Founders' Quarters must have been bigger than Harry originally suspected because there seemed to be a number of extra rooms (Harry later learned that these were rooms for family or very important guests); Neville chose one that was attached to the Gryffindor chambers and even had similar decorations. Luna had asked Hermione if they could share a room as she enjoyed having company that didn't want to pull cruel pranks on her; Hermione had grown very fond of Luna and was more than happy to be her roommate.

* * *

**Omake (just an old request by one of my original readers):**

A long way away, in a magical school called Hogwarts, an aged headmaster was very vexed. Albus Dumbledore had come upstairs to his office to find that his pet phoenix, Fawkes, had disappeared. Fawkes did not respond when Dumbledore called him and that worried to old man; after all, he was supposed to be the Leader of the Light. How could people trust him if he didn't have a phoenix? Okay, granted, Fawkes wasn't his to begin with and had been at Hogwarts for a long, long time, but nobody needed to know that!

In order to maintain his image as the Leader of the Light, Dumbledore decided to stop by a pet shop that dealt in rather…questionable trading of animals. However, not long after leaving the shop, Dumbledore realized that his new phoenix was not as lively as the shopkeeper had made it out to be. In fact, it was stone cold dead. Letting off a huff of annoyance, Dumbledore returned to the pet shop.

"Hello, I wish to register a complaint?" said Dumbledore as he strolled into the shop, the cage containing the dead phoenix clutched in his hands. "Hello, miss?" he said to the clerk on duty.

"What do you mean 'miss'?" said the man.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I have a cold. I wish to make a complaint."

"Sorry, we're closing for lunch."

"Never mind that, my lad; I wish to complain about this phoenix that I bought, not half an hour ago, from this very boutique."

"Ah, yes, the Australian dingo-pecker, what's wrong with it?"

"I'll tell you what's wrong with it. It's dead, that's what's wrong with it."

"No, no, it's resting, look."

"Listen, my lad, I know a dead phoenix when I see one and I am looking at one right now."

"No, no, sir, it's not dead, it's resting."

"Resting?"

"Yeah, remarkable creature, the Australian dingo-pecker, beautiful plumage, innit?""

"The plumage doesn't enter into it. It's stone dead."

"No, no, it's resting."

"All right, then, if it's resting, I'll wake it up." Dumbledore held up the cage and began to speak loudly at the phoenix. "Hello, phoenix! I've got a nice bunch of grapes for you, pretty phoenix!"

"There, it moved!"

"No, it didn't! That was you pushing the cage!"

"I did not."

"Yes, you _did_!" Dumbledore then opened the door of the cage and wrenched out the dead phoenix. He held the creature up close to his face and began to shout. "Hello, phoenix! Phoenix!" He banged it on the counter a few times. "Hello, phoenix, wake up!" He tossed it into the air and it fell with a thump. "Now, that's what I call a dead phoenix."

"No, no, it's stunned," the clerk replied.

"Look, my lad, I've had just about enough of this. That phoenix is definitely deceased; and when I bought it, not half an hour ago, you assured me that its lack of movement was due to it being tired and shagged out after a long squawk."

"Well, sir…it's probably pining for the outback."

"Pining for the outback? What kind of talk is that? Look, why did it fall flat on its back the moment I got it home?"

"The Australian dingo-pecker prefers kippin' on its back. It's a beautiful animal, lovely plumage."

"Look, I took the liberty of examining that phoenix. And I discovered that the only reason it had been sitting on its perch in the first place was that it had been _nailed_ there."

"Well…well, of course it was nailed there. Otherwise, it would muscle up to those bars and VOOM!"

"Look, matey," Dumbledore said, stooping down to pick up the dead phoenix, "this phoenix wouldn't voom if I put four thousand Cruciatus Curses through it. It's bleeding demised."

"It's not, it-it's pining."

"It's not pining, it's passed on. This phoenix is no more. It has ceased to be. It's expired and gone to meet its maker. This is a late phoenix! It's a stiff! Bereft of life, it rests in peace! If you hadn't nailed it to the perch, it would be pushing up the daisies! It's rung down the curtain and joined the choir invisible! _This_ is an _ex_-phoenix."

"Well, I'd better replace it, then," the clerk said.

"If you want anything done in this country, you've got to complain until you're blue in the mouth," Dumbledore said to himself.

"Sorry, guv," said the clerk after he finished checking his stock. "We're fresh out of phoenixes."

"I see, I see, I get the picture."

"I've got a slug."

"Is it magical?"

"Not really, no."

"Then it's scarcely a replacement, then, is it?"

"Listen, I didn't want to be pet shop owner. I wanted to be a lumberjack…"

I think we can all guess where it went from there.

* * *

**Author's Note: What did you all think of the plotline of the Slytherin Journals? I know they seemed very dark, but do you have a better way of representing Slytherin's life? **

**The scene with the dead phoenix was completely ripped off from the Dead Parrot skit and just something I had to add especially because of the requests I got for it. **

**And how about those school reforms, eh? Stuff's goin' down and it doesn't look good for Dumbles.**


	17. That's Not An Anagram

He's Not Dead Yet

***Spoiler* Yes, I do intend on having the Killer Rabbit in the story; yes, it is Luna; yes, she will wreak havoc on the Death Munchers. But not yet. Not yet.**

**Please remember that if you ever see the word 'football' in the story it means what we Americans would call 'soccer.'**

**I don't own Harry Potter or anything to do with Monty Python.**

That's Not an Anagram, That's a Spoonerism

Harry woke up early and got dressed for his morning jog. He invited the others to join him; Hermione was a bit hesitant as she had never been particularly athletic, but they managed to convince her. On their way outside, they came across Fay Dunbar. She had apparently heard about Harry's custom of taking a morning jog and asked if she could join them.

Harry and Fay ended up getting into a race. Harry, who had always been naturally rather fast, was pleased to see that Fay had no trouble keeping up with him and even pulled ahead a few times.

Hermione and Luna watched Harry and Fay have their race and smiled. Since she had begun to spend time with Luna, Hermione had become more attuned to people's feelings; right now, she could tell that Fay liked Harry a lot, and Harry himself was beginning to like their fellow Gryffindor. Luna was just happy that Harry was finally making some progress in finding his future wives; however, she felt like things needed to step up a great deal; perhaps she and Hermione could come up with a good plan. Luna bit her lower lip thoughtfully; in the other universes things seemed to go so much easier; if only the great master of _this_ universe could stop fooling around and think up something, everything would be so much simpler.

Neville was currently puffing a bit from the jog. As a pure-blood wizard, he wasn't accustomed to getting so much exercise. Neville's decision to join the others for their morning jog was because of a wish to spend time with his friends and to build up his strength; Neville might be a little slow, but he wasn't beyond noticing the way girls looked at Harry since he started working out, so it occurred to Neville that maybe if he got fit it would help him get Hannah's attention.

The group of friends sat down together at breakfast. Luna joined them as she had no wish to sit with the Ravenclaws who would completely ignore her. They had even invited Fay to join them.

"What have we got first?" said Harry.

"Herbology with the Hufflepuffs; and then Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins," said Hermione. "Thank goodness you told Hagrid not to bring in any dangerous creatures. What was it you said he wanted to show us? Brass-Ended Skoots?"

"Blast-Ended Skrewts," Harry corrected. "Yeah, I had a long talk with Hagrid about how some creatures might not be dangerous for him but they are very risky for other students. I think he said that he'll be teaching about unicorns."

Hermione gave a relieved sigh.

"What's your first class, Luna?" asked Fay.

"The new Ethics course," Luna replied. "It's a good thing you made that mandatory, Harry. A lot of students feel they can do anything they want and there will be no repercussions." She didn't show it, but she gave an internal flinch. Luna knew first-hand who some of those students were. "After that, I'm off to Biology."

"You're taking Biology, Luna?" asked Harry. Well, that certainly fit what he knew about her.

"Oh, yes. The first semester is about reproduction and genetics. I certainly don't want to miss that." Luna gave a slight giggle at the blushing faces of her comrades. Really, they were all so repressed in her opinion.

"Right," said Neville. "Ugh, Double Divination in the afternoon," he groaned.

"Why don't you change a class, Neville?" suggested Harry. "Divination is pointless unless you're a Seer. There are plenty of classes still open and I'm sure you'll find something you'll like."

"What are you taking in the afternoon, Harry?"

"Chemistry. It's a lot like Potions in a way. Then I have Political Science."

"Why don't you go and talk to Professor Babbling, Neville?" suggested Hermione. "I'm sure she'd be happy to help you choose a new subject. Harry, maybe you should add in a new policy regarding Divination so people stop taking it as an excuse to get out of learning _real_ subjects?"

"Good idea, Hermione," said Harry. "Don't know why I didn't think of it sooner."

"We all get distracted."

It was then that the post owls arrived. Many of them carried copies of _The Quibbler_. Harry smirked at the thought of what today's article would bring. No sooner had Harry finished pouring himself some pumpkin juice than shocked gasps were heard all around the Great Hall.

"Oh, look," said Luna, "Daddy's new article is out."

Beneath a copy of an old photograph of a rather attractive, dark-haired boy with a haughty smirk was the headline:

_Lord Voldemort: Liar and Hypocrite_

_You-Know-Who keeps true heritage a secret_

_By Xenophilius Lovegood_

_Lord Voldemort is one of the most feared Dark Lords to have ever been known in Britain. Members of a group known as the Death Eaters nearly conquered the British Isles through murder, torture, intimidation, and terror. Their goal was to eliminate those they deemed to be of 'impure' blood; meaning the Muggle-born and half-bloods. Their leader was the self-proclaimed Dark Lord Voldemort, the bastion of pure-blood supremacy without a single mark of this alleged 'taint' in him. Or was he?_

_Certain investigations have been done by myself and a few anonymous individuals to uncover the true story behind Voldemort. What we found is truly shocking._

_It is well-known that Voldemort always claimed to be the Heir of Slytherin; however, it was made apparent that the real heir was none other than Lord Harry James Potter. The only way Voldemort could make such allegations would be if he was related to the Florus line; which, it soon became clear, he was not. Voldemort's mother was the daughter of a line known as the Gaunt family, an off-shot of the Slytherin line that had become destabilized after generations of incestuous inbreeding. The woman in question, Merope Gaunt, was an uneducated and magically weak person, practically a Squib. _

_After the incarceration of her father and brother, Merope is believed to have used a Love Potion to ensnare the very man her relatives were arrested for attacking; a Muggle by the name of Thomas Riddle the Second. After some time of using the potions on Mr. Riddle, Merope suddenly stopped; perhaps she felt that he had truly come to care for her, or he would stay because of the child she was pregnant with. However, neither of these assumptions proved true as Thomas abandoned her, dooming her to wander the streets. On a cold New Year's Eve of 1926, Merope, half-dead from cold and starvation, found her way to a Muggle orphanage and gave birth to a son, Tom Marvolo Riddle. Merope died not even an hour after the birth._

_During his time at the orphanage, young Tom Riddle developed a reputation as a 'troubled' child and was ostracized by his peers. There were stories of him making things happen, what we would call 'accidental magic,' but what the people at the orphanage called 'abnormal'; the things Tom Riddle did were intended to frighten and bully the other children, often if they had done something to anger him. When Tom arrived at Hogwarts, he was sorted into Slytherin House and promptly looked down upon by his housemates as he did not have the surname of a magical family. After this, Tom began to resort to his old methods of intimidation and even violence to gain the loyalty of the other Slytherins. Tom was also noted for his charisma and intelligence, which earned him admirers from students and faculty alike. Once Tom learned of his connection to the Gaunt family, who had always claimed descendancy from Salazar Slytherin, his popularity inside Slytherin House was assured. _

_After some time, Tom, who despised his birth name, decided to create a new alias for himself. By rearranging the letters in his name, TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE, he came up with the phrase: I AM LORD VOLDEMORT. This is a trick known in the non-magical world as an anagram and is often used in coded messages._

_In 1942-43, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was terrified by a series of strange attacks on students, leaving them petrified, that ended only after the death of a young girl, Myrtle Morgan, whose ghost is still known to haunt the girls' bathroom in which the legendary Chamber of Secrets was discovered. Tom Riddle, a fifth year prefect at the time, was reported to have caught the one behind the attacks; the person in question, Rubeus Hagrid, a third-year Gryffindor, was found to be in possession of an acromantula and was expelled without so much as a hearing. While young Mr. Hagrid's actions in owning a Class XXXXX dangerous creature were extremely risky, evidence shows that said acromantula never actually harmed anyone in the school; Mr. Hagrid informed us that he had made a deal with the creature, whom he named Aragog, that it would not attempt to hurt any student or faculty member. Mr. Hagrid was expelled and Mr. Riddle received an award for services to the school._

_The truth of the matter is that Tom Riddle discovered the Chamber of Secrets and, through his use of Parseltongue, was able to order the basilisk in the chamber to attack Muggle-born students. How do we know this to be fact? The story picks up about fifty years later._

_The year is 1992, the night of October 31__st__. Three students are returning to their dormitory after attending a Deathday Party for their House ghost, when, suddenly, one of them hears something; a strange voice moving along the corridors. The other two can't hear it, but follow their friend; when the voice eventually fades, they discover a horrible sight. On the wall in front of them, in what appears to be blood, is the message: THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED; ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE. Besides the massage is the petrified form of the caretaker's cat._

_Soon the corridor fills with students, all of them aghast at what they see. As the three students were the first on the scene, everyone began to point a finger of blame at them without even asking for their side of the story. The caretaker, who became immensely distraught by the attack upon his pet, immediately began to threaten the three students who just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. However, the problem was soon sorted out as they had a clear alibi in the form of the ghosts who attended the Deathday Party. Over time, the attacks escalated as students began to be petrified; a first year Gryffindor, a second year Hufflepuff and the Gryffindor ghost, and finally a second year Gryffindor (one of the three students who had been found at the scene of the first attack) and a fifth year Ravenclaw prefect. _

_In an attempt to be seen doing something, the Ministry ordered for the arrest of Rubeus Hagrid, the school gamekeeper, as he was implicated in the original attacks; he was sent to Azkaban without trial, much like what happened to Sirius Black. Upon being questioned, Minister Cornelius Fudge admitted that while he did order Mr. Hagrid's arrest, he had been reluctant to do so and it had only been at the insistence of his Senior Undersecretary, the late Dolores Jane Umbridge, that there was no question of Mr. Hagrid's guilt; the Minister wishes to express his sincerest apologies to Mr. Hagrid and to assure us that he took great pleasure in ordering the release once new evidence proved him to be innocent._

_Shortly after the arrest of Mr. Hagrid, another student was attacked; however, this time it was different. A Gryffindor first year, who expressed her wish to remain anonymous, was abducted into the Chamber of Secrets. As I am sure my readers remember, Lord Harry James Potter was credited for the slaying of a basilisk, the profits from which he distributed amongst the victims. Lord Potter, who was friends at the time with the latest victim's brother, was able to deduce to the location of the Chamber of Secrets; and, thanks to the help of his good friend, Hermione Jean Granger, one of Hogwarts' brightest students and one of the victims of the attacks, was able to identify the creature that had been attacking the Muggle-borns._

_Lord Potter decided to inform the then Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, one Gilderoy Lockhart, of his discoveries. Mr. Lockhart's reputation as a fighter against Dark forces was likely the deciding factor as the man had proven himself to be rather incompetent as a teacher. Lord Potter, accompanied by the victim's brother, arrived at Professor Lockhart's quarters only to discover him in the process of packing his things, clearly about to take his leave of the school. Lord Potter was outraged that a man who claimed to be so powerful was abandoning a school full of students who needed every adult they could find to protect them. What was uncovered there was that Mr. Lockhart had, in actuality, stolen the stories of various witches and wizards, wiped their memories, and then made a fortune off of claiming the stories as his own achievements. Mr. Lockhart then attempted to wipe Lord Potter's memory, only to be disarmed and made to accompany the two boys to where the Chamber of Secrets was._

_Once the three had entered the passageway in the girls' lavatory, Mr. Lockhart again made an attempt to wipe the students' memories after stealing the wand of Lord Potter's associate. By sheer luck, the wand happened to have been badly damaged earlier that year, resulting in the Memory Charm rebounding upon its caster; unfortunately, it also caused a cave-in that separated Lord Potter from the other two, forcing him to go forward on his own. What occurred inside the Chamber of Secrets was a confrontation with a memory of Tom Marvolo Riddle that came out of a diary. Apparently, the diary had been sucking the life-force out of the student who had been abducted, in addition to possessing her all year and forcing her to attack students with the basilisk. The memory of Tom Riddle identified itself as Lord Voldemort and admitted to being responsible for the original attacks when he was at school as well as framing Mr. Hagrid._

_The memory then summoned the basilisk and attempted to have it kill Lord Potter, who at the time had no idea that he himself could control the basilisk a he was the true heir of the Slytherin line. Lord Potter would likely have met death, had it not been for the arrival of a phoenix by the name of Fawkes, who has resided in Hogwarts for centuries, who had brought along the school Sorting Hat. Fawkes blinded that basilisk, preventing its deadly gaze from killing Lord Potter, and the Sorting Hat produced the legendary Sword of Gryffindor, which Lord Potter used to slay the basilisk. Lord Potter came very near to death as one of the basilisk's fangs pierced his arm; fortunately, Fawkes the phoenix cried onto the wound (as phoenix tears contain healing properties). When the memory made another attempt to kill him, Lord Potter used the basilisk fang that had injured him to destroy the diary that the memory had resided in, thus destroying the memory. The student then awoke from her death-like state and was promptly returned to her family. She informed her parents that she had found the diary amongst her school supplies and that she had been writing in it all year and it had been writing back._

_What was our esteemed Headmaster Dumbledore's response to this? Sending the girl off to the hospital wing after recommending nothing more than bed-rest and awarding points to Gryffindor. No inquiry was made, the girl did not receive any counseling or even a visit from a Mind Healer, and the whole thing was just swept under the rug. Even though Albus Dumbledore had been suspended by the Board of Governors, who have since been disbanded for incompetence, he was supposed to be responsible for the students when he returned; yet he made no such efforts to see that the girl was properly cared for after her year-long experience of being possessed by a dark artifact, he did not even bother to inform the families of those who had been petrified of what had happened to their students. Albus Dumbledore did not even see fit to inform the general public of Voldemort's heritage and identity; something that could have influenced people away from joining the Death Eaters._

_After this research and overwhelming evidence, it is clear that Lord Voldemort is not the pure-blood that his followers believed him to be. He was, in reality, a half-blood named Tom Riddle who was driven to exact a genocide against the people he believed were responsible for everything that had gone wrong in his life: Muggles. The knowledge that his Muggle father had rejected him before he was even born combined with his treatment at the orphanage and in his school House influenced him to pursue power and to wipe out thousands of innocent lives._

_For details about the Hogwarts attacks of the '40s, see page 13_

_For information about Lord Potter, see page 24_

_For an account of Albus Dumbledore's misuse of power, see page 6_

Harry looked around the room to see people's reactions. Dumbledore looked furious; Harry supposed it was because the old bugger liked to keep information like this a secret, and possibly also because of how bad the article made him look. Draco Malfoy and a number of Slytherins looked like they were going to be ill; many of them had thought of joining Voldemort when he returned but the realization that their 'Master' was nothing more than a half-blood repulsed them. The Muggle-borns and half-bloods were all looking rather smug, though a few appeared outraged by Voldemort's hypocrisy.

"Potter!" came a shout. Harry turned and saw that it was none other than Ron Weasley. Ron was fuming and his face was bright red; Harry half expected steam to start spouting from his ears. "I know you're responsible for this! How dare you take all the credit for defeating that basilisk! I went down there and helped you! Where's my reward?!"

"Weasley," Harry replied in a calm but firm voice that reverberated around the room, "in case you've forgotten, all you did was follow me down there and nearly get us killed because you lost your wand to Lockhart. If anything, you were a hindrance. You have no right to speak to me like this in my school and I am well within my rights to have you thrown out. Either sit down and leave me alone, or you will face severe consequences."

Ron seemed to get, if possible, even angrier; however, he wasn't so entirely stupid that he couldn't recognize the danger of attempting to draw his wand on Harry. So, with a furious glare, Ron took a seat much farther along the table and began to pile his plate with breakfast.

"Mr. Weasley," came the calm voice of Professor Babbling, "detention for your unprovoked verbal assault on Lord Potter. I would have acted sooner, but Lord Potter had the situation under control." She then turned to Harry. "Congratulations for keeping calm in the face of adversity, Lord Potter."

Ron continued to glare at Harry for the rest of breakfast.

"So, Harry, Neville, where were you guys last night?" asked Dean Thomas. "Neither of you slept in Gryffindor Tower."

"Yeah, and, Hermione, you weren't in the girls' dorms either," added Fay.

"We've got separate accommodation," said Harry. He decided to keep quiet about the Founders' quarters. "We didn't want to have to put up with Ron this year, so we got private chambers. Luna is also sharing a room with Hermione because a number of Ravenclaws have been picking on her."

"They have?" said Dean. "Well, we'll have to deal with that."

"It's all right," said Luna. She then turned to Fay. "Thank you again for your help last year, Fay."

"I told you, Luna, it's no problem," Fay replied.

"What happened?" asked Dean.

"I saw Chang and Edgecombe pushing Luna around and knocking her things out of her hands. They said they were 'teaching her that she wasn't wanted.' So I taught them a lesson they won't soon forget."

"What did you do?" asked Neville.

After Fay recounted what happened, everyone burst out laughing.

"Brilliant, Fay," Harry complimented her. "It's great to know there are people in this school willing to stand up to bullies."

Fay blushed a bit under his praise.

* * *

Meanwhile, over at the Slytherin table, several students were reading over the article.

"I bloody knew it!" exclaimed one Theodore Nott, who then burst out laughing. "Mum told me that she thought the Dark Lord was a half-blood, but Father didn't listen."

Blaise Zabini was shaking his head in amusement; he was so glad that his mother had listened to her instincts and not joined the Death Eaters, if she had then she would have gotten a heart-attack when she read this. Even though he, personally, didn't subscribe to pure-blood doctrine, Blaise knew that his mother did to a certain degree. Blaise couldn't help but find it entertaining how stupid all the pure-blood supremacists must be feeling right about now.

Daphne and Tracey were giggling at the look on Pansy Parkinson's face; the girl seemed about ready to faint. Both were also in awe of just how much Harry had done to protect the school; they knew that competition would certainly be tough in getting his attention. It was definitely a good thing that Harry knew they had already liked him before and would realize that they were not simply gold-diggers or fame-leeches.

Even Millicent Bulstrode couldn't help but laugh; she had two uncles and a cousin who had joined the Death Eaters, but her father hadn't as he had married a Muggle-born and did not subscribe to Death Eater beliefs.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was not having a good time. He had hoped that if he ignored the problem long enough that it would go away; the fact was that it had only gotten worse. Harry was becoming out of control; implementing all these changes without even informing him. When he had complained to the rest of the staff, they had all just glared at him and implied that his status as Headmaster would soon be coming to an end and that he was, for the time being, little more than a figurehead, and an annoying one at that.

Albus scowled as he sucked on another lemon drop.

What did he have to do to get Harry under his influence again? The boy had a destiny to fulfill. A destiny of being killed by Voldemort so that he, Albus Dumbledore, could once again step up as the hero of the wizarding world. Harry being the heir of all four Founders as well as the Peverell line meant there was much more to gain from controlling him. Albus was also worried about how close Harry was getting with the young ladies of Hogwarts; especially Miss Granger. Harry needed to marry Miss Weasley so that he could gain access to Harry's wealth and holdings; Miss Weasley was naïve and easily manipulated, not to mention adamantly in favor of the Light side. Harry's falling out with Ronald was also a serious problem; really, Harry needed to learn how to forgive and forget. Albus needed young Mr. Weasley so that he could more effectively spy on Harry.

Then of course there was that _Quibbler_ article about Tom Riddle. Not only did it reveal information that Dumbledore had hoped to keep secret, it also made him look like the bad guy; certainly not an image that would be beneficial to him.

Things really weren't looking up for Albus Dumbledore. The only thing that could make his situation worse would be if the Longbottoms returned to their old selves. Frank and Alice had learned a few things that Dumbledore needed to keep quiet; that was why he had arranged for their Secret Keeper to have a little 'run in' with the Lestranges. It was sad that a young boy was denied the chance to grow up with his parents and that those same parents were robbed of thirteen years of their lives; but it was all for the Greater Good.

* * *

The week seemed to take off quietly. Everyone went to their classes, spent time in clubs and activities, and went down to Hogsmeade, which had recently had several new stores added and it seemed as though more was going to be built, including an ice-skating rink which would become very popular once winter came around. The only thing that really got to Harry was the numerous attempts of the female students to get his attention. He had thought it was bad in the other timeline when only a few raving fangirls tried to get into his pants; however, that had nothing on what was happening now. Harry had to check and double-check his food and drink at meals, he had to travel under his Invisibility Cloak on his way back to the Founders' quarters so he wouldn't be followed, and he had to dodge girls who tried to tackle him when he was on his own. Mr. Preston had had to assign detentions when a group of fifth year girls had tried to abscond with some vials of Amortentia that he had brewed for a demonstration in class, which he had promptly thrown out.

Luckily, several of his friends acted as bodyguards; oddly enough, it was Susan Bones who came up with the protection system. Susan had accosted Harry as he was coming in from his morning jog and showed him a list of people who were willing to ensure his security at scheduled times as well as a list of female students she was positive weren't intending to jump him or potion him. Susan had proven herself a true friend when she had tackled a sixth year girl that had cornered Harry with the intention of seducing him; Susan had gotten fairly scratched up by the older girl and had to see Madam Pomfrey to get the injuries taken care of. Needless to say, Susan soon became a close member of Harry's circle of friends.

Neville had dropped Divination, as had a number of people (much to Trelawney's chagrin), and chosen some new courses. Neville had decided to take the new Drawing class, and it turned out he was actually quite a gifted artist; he produced some excellent sketches of plants, some of which were so accurate that they would later be used in notable Herbology textbooks.

The new courses turned out to be extremely popular. Many of the Muggle-born and half-blood students had wanted to take some of the courses before they came to Hogwarts and they finally had their chance; a number of the pure-bloods took the courses out of curiosity and ended up loving them. When the rumor began to circulate that there would be a Yule Ball around Christmas time (which had nothing to do with Harry at all *nod-nod, wink-wink, nudge-nudge*), the new Dance Club became wildly popular. There was also a rising interest in some of the other new clubs, especially sports. Muggle-borns and half-bloods took it upon themselves to show their pure-blood friends how much fun things like football, tennis, cricket, badminton, and rugby could be.

Only the staunchest of pure-blood activists had any sort of issue with these changes, but none of them dared to voice their opinions too loudly as Harry Potter owned the school and could have them expelled if they made any false steps, something that would be socially unacceptable. Even a few pure-bloods who had been opposed to the changes at first started to change their ways; Crabbe and Goyle, who had always done whatever Malfoy had told them to do, ended up joining the rugby team and found themselves to be naturals at sports that involved brute strength. Adrian Pucey, one of the Slytherin team Chasers and the only one in the House to have actually adhered to the rules of Quidditch, discovered he really enjoyed football and through his involvement in the school club became friends with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan.

After a few weeks, Sirius had been invited to come to Hogwarts in order to help McGonagall in the Transfiguration department. He had gotten permission from the Ministry of Magic, after his success with Harry and his friends, to supervise a class on becoming an Animagus under the condition that everyone who took it would register once they achieved the transformation. Sirius gladly accepted the opportunity as it meant he would get to see his godson regularly; to say the least of his girlfriend Bathsheba and his good friend Remus.

* * *

And while that's going on, here is an update on the happenings of the Death Eaters. Lucius Malfoy was currently sitting in a restaurant that was frequented by people of his ilk (he was still smarting from the injuries he'd sustained from Sirius' RV); his purpose there was a note from one of his old comrades, Yaxley. In the background, a man dressed in Italian clothing and who had a large handlebar moustache was playing a violin very off-key.

"Lucius."

"Ah, Yaxley, my old friend, do take a seat."

Yaxley looked around and yanked a chair out from underneath another patron and sat down beside Lucius.

"What can I do for you, Yaxley?"

"We are in a serious predicament, Lucius," Yaxley said in an undertone. "I've just had contact with Barty Crouch Jr. Apparently he's been alive all this time. He wants full support for a mission to resurrect the Dark Lord."

"He what?" Lucius said loudly; the music being played by the mustachioed man was so loud he hadn't heard.

"He wants full support for a mission to resurrect the Dark Lord! Every Death Eater-"

The man with the moustache came up to their table and was still playing his violin off-key. Yaxley glanced at the man and then back to Lucius.

"It's alright," said Lucius. "Don't worry about Giuseppe. He's English, really."

"I see," said Yaxley. "Well, apparently the whole structure of-"

"Your anniversary, _signore_?" Giuseppe asked Lucius.

"Uh…no, no, no, Giuseppe, not now," said Lucius.

Giuseppe suddenly stopped playing.

"You mean, zis isn't ze lady?"

"No, no."

Giuseppe then turned to Yaxley.

"Oh, _signora_, my mistake!"

"Fine, fine," said Yaxley.

"I play for you 'My Mistake'!"

"Uh…"

Giuseppe then began to sing very loudly while resuming his violin playing.

"_My mistake!_

_I have made my mistake!_

_What a dreadful mistake_

_Is this mistake that I made!_

_My mistake…!_"

"Uh, Giuseppe, do you mind playing over there?" said Lucius, pointing to another corner of the room.

"Oh, very well, _signore Malfoy_, but I play only for you and your beautiful companion." Giuseppe then wandered off to the other side of the room and resumed his very loud and very obnoxious singing.

"As I was saying," said Yaxley, "Barty says that he's found the spirit of the Dark Lord and plans to bring him back to his full power once again. However, he demands that we capture Harry Potter and bring him to the Dark Lord. Barty says that if we don't then he will."

"What?!" Once again, Lucius was having trouble hearing over the sound of Giuseppe.

"Barty says that if we don't, he will!"

"If he doesn't know what?!"

"They'll level the entire London area to find Potter!"

"We better get out of here!"

"They-they won't attack here, Lucius."

"Are you sure?"

"Sure."

"Oh, well, that's a relief."

"However, the Dark Lord will remember who didn't make an effort to help him regain his power and the consequences will be dire."

"Your suspenders are on fire?!"

"The _consequences_ will be _dire_!"

"What?!"

Eventually, they came to their senses and had their conversation outside. Apparently, Voldemort wanted the word to get out to his Death Eaters that he would be returning by the end of the year and that his plan involved getting Potter entered into the Triwizard Tournament. Barty would rendezvous with them so that they could come up with an evil plan. Unfortunately for them, they had no idea that the Harry Potter they were dealing with was not the clueless, easily-manipulated child of the last timeline.


	18. Upper-class Twit of the Year Show

He's Not Dead Yet

**Heya, folks. We've reached the point where I am now completely writing from the top of my head instead of revising an original part of the story. The chapter that was here in the first story was a karaoke chapter in which the Hogwarts students and faculty sang songs that I spent hours looking up and picking. Only, as it turned out, that chapter was the reason why I was forced to delete the original as some jerk hated my fic so much that he/she threatened to report me for the use of song lyrics if I didn't delete it.**

**I'm just sorry that you all can't enjoy the original chapter as I was actually quite proud of it.**

**Also, yes, both Beauxbatons and Durmstrang are co-ed schools like Hogwarts. Only the film showed them as all-girls and all-boys respectively.**

**Anyway, I don't own Harry Potter, yadda, yadda, yadda.**

Upper-class Twit of the Year Show

Several weeks had passed and the visiting schools would be arriving in two days. But that is of little concern for the story so far and will not have any significance for a number of paragraphs.

"Eureka!" Harry exclaimed at breakfast, drawing the attention of a number of people.

"What is it, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"I found out what happened at the Quidditch match last year. You remember, I somehow performed a spell that saved my life."

"And what exactly happened?"

"I was subconsciously accessing Potter family magic," he explained. "According to the grimoire, if a Potter is in a dire situation then he or she is able to summon family magics to help. Even if that person hasn't read the grimoire, he or she will know the exact spell to use."

"How is that possible, Harry?"

"It's all there in the grimoire. Apparently, there is a ritual that one of my ancestors used to bind those of Potter blood to the grimoire so they would always be able to access the knowledge when they truly needed it."

"That's incredible. May I see the grimoire?"

"Sorry, Hermione, but only those connected to the Potter family through blood or marriage can read the grimoire. You are, of course, more than welcome to read any of the other books my family possesses. I know for a fact that there's an entire vault full of them at Gringotts because the knowledge was so important that my forbears couldn't keep it in the library at Potter Manor in case someone managed to get in."

Hermione stopped registering what Harry was saying after he mentioned how many books he owned. The thought of all that knowledge just waiting to be read…

"Morning, everyone," said Luna cheerily, taking a seat beside Harry at Gryffindor table. "Harry, you seem excited. Did you get visited by the Undulated Scrumplies?"

"Uhhh…no?"

"Harry's just discovered that he subconsciously accessed his family magic last year during that Quidditch match," Hermione corrected.

"Oh?" said Luna quizzically. "I was certain that it was the Red-Winged Hornswaggles that saved you that time. Oh well, I can't be right all the time. Hermione, please close your mouth; gaping like a halibut is quite unseemly."

"Luna, if you don't mind my asking, why do you think that pretty much everything that happens is caused by some sort of magical creature?" Harry asked.

"Hmm? Oh, it's because my family magic is linked to beast mastery. Our grimoire deals with magic associated with nature, particularly animals. There are only a handful of other families with the same affinity." She pointed to a boy at the Hufflepuff table. "Rolf Scamander's family is one of the more famous ones. His grandfather is the author of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_." She then looked over at Ravenclaw and pointed to an Asian girl. "Su Li's family is well-known throughout her homeland of Korea and in most of China."

"So, where exactly does all this 'magical affinity' come from?" asked Hermione, who was finding this all to be fascinating.

"Mainly from family tradition. Most magical families have stayed in the same line of business for centuries, parents passing on knowledge to their children who would use it to continue doing the same work. For example, Harry's family is descended from a Roman merchant, therefore he has a magical connection to business. His family was also heavily involved in both politics and Quidditch, meaning he has affinity for those, too."

"But, by that logic, since practically every magical family is related to each other, wouldn't everyone have the same magic?" Hermione countered.

"Ah, I was hoping you'd ask that. You see from what I've learned in my Biology class about genetics, I was able to determine that sometimes the magical affinity skips several generations in different bloodlines, mostly due to the inbreeding. The families that have the strongest magical affinity are the ones that marry with 'new blood' or the descendants of Squibs who have long since lost the faulty genetics."

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look. It was at that moment that they were joined by Fay.

"Morning," she greeted.

"Another example," Luna said cheerily indicating towards Fay.

"Beg your pardon?"

"Fay, what is your family's magical affinity?"

"Well, Mum always said that our family magic mainly dealt with social magnetism. Our family was once one of the most prestigious and was famous for its socialites. 'Course, Mum didn't get access to the grimoire because she married Dad and, well…" Fay turned slightly pink.

"What was your Mum's family name?" Harry asked delicately.

Fay looked rather uncomfortable.

"They're a historically Grey family, but they did have some Dark tendencies since many of them misused the family magic. It's suspected that the family even developed something similar to an Imperius, but it wasn't powerful enough to be made illegal. The Gamp family, well, they were a rather…interesting bunch."

"Gamp?" asked Hermione. "Not like Sarah Gamp, the witch who discovered the Laws of Elemental Transfiguration?"

"Yeah," Fay admitted. "She was my great-great-great…or something, grandmother. Mum told me that no one in her immediate family was as talented, though."

"Exactly the point I was trying to prove," Luna announced. "See? I told you that the affinity sometimes skips a couple generations. Now, who wants kippers with their toast?"

Shaken by the sudden change of topic, the three others didn't notice Neville arrive until he asked why they all looked frozen in their seats.

"Oh, sorry, Neville, we were talking about pure-blood family magic," Harry said.

"Oh, that's neat. The Longbottom family has a history of skilled Potions-brewers." Neville gave a sarcastic laugh. "Guess I missed out on that, eh?"

"What about your Mum's family, Neville?"

"Mum was a Fawley. I suppose I take more after her, seeing as the Fawleys are known for their natural talent with plants."

"As I said, magical affinity can sometimes skip a generation, but it allows for other skills to show themselves," said Luna.

"This could definitely be something to do further research into, Luna," Hermione added. "I'm sure lots of people will be interested in this."

"Shall we make arrangements to meet in the library later?"

"I think we shall."

The two girls grinned and laughed.

"Yeah, you two do that while I'm off at Quidditch club," Fay spoke up before turning to Harry. "Thanks again for starting that up, Harry. I've wanted to be on a Quidditch team for ages."

"No problem, Fay."

"Oh, Harry," Neville said, "the Board is meeting tonight to go over some of the newest marketing plans we've come up with."

"Excellent, Neville."

* * *

The Board which Neville had arranged had convened twice since the beginning of the school year. On the Board, there were fourteen individuals from each House, a boy and a girl from each year unless you counted Harry, Neville, Hermione, and Luna. In order to keep the meetings discreet and to ensure there was enough room for everyone, the Board room was situated in the Room of Requirement and everyone signed a Confidentiality Agreement drawn up by Hermione.

"Quiet, quiet, everyone," Neville declared as he banged a gavel on the table. "I love being able to do that," he muttered to himself as the room quieted down. "Now that I have your attention, I call to order the third meeting of Splunge Enterprise. Are there any questions before we begin?"

"I've got one," said Justin Finch-Fletchley. "It's been on my mind since the first meeting. Why did you all name it Splunge Enterprise?"

"Actually, it was Luna's idea," Harry answered, looking at the young blonde.

"The word means that something is a good idea but possibly not and I'm not being indecisive," Luna added casually.

"Good, now we're getting somewhere," declared Blaise Zabini with an approving nod.

"Anyway, gentlemen and ladies," Neville continued, "we've got several devices that our people were able to come up with. One is a device that our American contact has rigged up with the help of the Japanese Technomancers that Lord Potter has recruited. What is it called again, Hermione?"

"It's a cellular phone," she replied. "They haven't really become popular in the Muggle world yet, but our friends have made a number of improvements to them and made it so that they can bypass the Hogwarts wards that disable electronic devices."

"What do you mean the wards disable electronic devices?" asked Hannah Abbott. "I thought it was the fact that large amounts of magic short-circuit electronic devices."

"Ah, I am afraid that is a misconception perpetuated by the close-minded, die-hard traditionalists," Harry answered. "I mean, how much magical activity goes on in places like Diagon Alley or St. Mungo's?"

"Well, quite a bit I'd imagine."

"And with all that magical activity, why haven't the Muggle buildings around them been affected if it really was magic's inability to work alongside technology?"

Everyone except the four leaders exchanged looks of shocked realization.

"The allegation that magic and technology are incompatible is a ploy to keep our world from advancing into the 20th century," Harry explained. "After all, why do we still use parchment and quills when paper and pens, or even pencils, are so much more practical? It's time our society advances, and we are just the people to make that happen."

"The Triwizard Tournament is also an excellent opportunity for us," Hermione added. "Meeting with representatives from other schools will allow us to make important connections and gain us potential clients and/or business partners in other countries. Therefore, it is imperative that the right impressions are made and that our guests are treated respectfully."

"Which, unfortunately, means no hijinks," Harry said sadly. "Pity, though, I had this great idea for a prank in which I…" He trailed off at the warning gaze Hermione was giving him.

* * *

Finally, October 30th arrived and with it came the approach of the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. In order to make sure nothing bad happened, Harry sent a request to Amelia Bones to have several Aurors on duty at the school; something which the head of the DMLE was more than happy to do. Tonks, Kingsley, Jones, and, oddly enough, Sirius (who had taken up his old job as an Auror) had been assigned to duty at Hogwarts. Mad-Eye Moody had even offered to temporarily come out of retirement in order to provide assistance; this, however, led to a slight incident in which the new Hogwarts wards, specially commissioned by Harry, had detected that Moody was, in actuality, Barty Crouch Jr. who had Polyjuiced himself to impersonate the retired Auror.

The incident made its way into the latest article of _The Quibbler_ and ensured the conviction of Barty Crouch Sr. for his involvement in his son's escape from Azkaban. Father and son ended up in neighboring cells at the infamous prison and would not have any further involvement in the Tournament. The real Mad-Eye Moody was, naturally, quite put-out at being held captive by "Death Eater scum" and actually did offer to help the other Aurors keep watch at the school on the off-chance that he could get some vengeance should any more Death Eaters make the mistake of showing up.

It was this incident that prompted Harry to remember that Karkaroff was also a Death Eater and would be arriving at Hogwarts with no knowledge of what the new wards were going to do to him.

_Oh well,_ thought Harry. _That's his problem, not mine._

Anyway, many of the teachers were fussing at the Hogwarts students, telling them to straighten up or flatten their hair. Harry was tempted to make his hair some vibrant and outlandish color just to annoy them, but decided to behave for the sake of the plan to make a good impression with the visitors. For some reason, Babbling was least affected by the mad desire to impress the guests; she just kept encouraging the students to be respectful but still act like themselves.

"Oh look," Harry said casually, pointing up to a point in the sky, "seems the Beauxbatons have arrived."

Sure enough, there was the carriage pulled by a dozen, giant, winged horses soaring into view, landing sharply on the lawn. From the powder-blue carriage emerged the familiar (to Harry at least) figure of Madam Maxime, shortly followed by the young witches and wizards of Beauxbatons. The assembled Hogwarts students broke into polite applause as the Beaxbatons delegation approached.

Soon enough, something else appeared on the horizon. Something was gliding across the surface of the Black Lake. Suddenly, it rose to reveal a giant ship which anchored along the bank of the lake before letting down a gangplank so that the young men and women of Durmstrang could approach the entryway to Hogwarts. As Headmaster Karkaroff drew closer in order to greet Dumbledore, he stopped short and dropped to the ground in a sudden fit as soon as he had crossed through the border of the central wards.

Whatever anyone was expecting, it certainly wasn't the headmaster of Durmstrang bursting into mad laughter and raving about something to do with penguins being intrinsically smarter than human beings. What was expected, at least by the majority of the Hogwarts students, was that every eye turned to a very sheepish Harry.

"Um, sorry about that, folks," he said apologetically. "Seems Headmaster Karkaroff was not informed of our school's anti-Death Eater wards."

This caused much nervous muttering. Hogwarts had already tested its new wards recently, what with the Crouch incident; and now another Death Eater had shown up on the castle's doorstep. Harry decided now would be a good time to put old Dumbles on the spot again.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, were you aware that our visiting dignitary is a marked Death Eater?"

"I…well…I…"

"I say, Dumbledore," Ludo Bagman, the representative from the Ministry, interjected, "this is absolutely disgraceful. What are we going to do about one of our judges being both incapacitated and a Death Eater?"

"Ask Lord Potter, it's his wards that caused this."

"Well, Lord Potter?"

Harry pretended to look at the still-crazed Durmstrang headmaster with a scrutinizing gaze.

"Probably best to give him some morphine or something like that," Harry concluded.

"WHAT?!" both men exclaimed.

"Well, do either of you want to be charged with assaulting the headmaster of Durmstrang? Because if you don't want to keep him sedated, the only other option would be for one of you to Stun him. That or I could have him arrested for being a Death Eater on land where Death Eaters are prohibited."

"Now, Harry, I don't think you need to do that…" Dumbledore tried to say.

"Firstly, it's 'Lord Potter.' And second, I am well within my rights to have him arrested. I just didn't want to run the risk of embarrassing our guests from the north." Harry sent a polite nod towards the Durmstrang students, who were still watching in barely-contained amusement as their headmaster now began singing about his secret desire to be a lumberjack. Oddly enough, Viktor Krum seemed to be the one most amused by the strange turn of events.

Dumbledore gave an annoyed sigh. This was not looking up to being a good year for him.

Once everyone had settled in the Great Hall after Karkaroff was sent to the hospital section of the Durmstrang ship, the opening addresses were made. Dumbledore had intended to give the welcome to the guests; however, Harry overruled this under his rights as "Lord of Hogwarts." Therefore, it was Harry who stepped up to the podium. All the room quieted.

"Who iz zat?" one Beauxbatons girl asked a Ravenclaw students.

"That's Lord Harry Potter," the girl answered. "He owns the school. Shh! He's about to speak."

"Welcome, honored guests," Harry said in a warm but authoritative voice. "It is our privilege and great pleasure to have you here with us for the Triwizard Tournament. As the owner of this castle and its grounds, I invite you to make yourselves at home. I hope this will be the start of long-lasting friendships and peaceful cooperation. I also encourage you to feel free to attend any of our classes, clubs, and extra-curriculars, both magical and non-magical." This elicited some whispering from the visitors; Hogwarts offered non-magical courses? "You are also welcome to visit the local village of Hogsmeade, which offers many things to entertain. Oh, that reminds me, I also wish to announce the opening of the new skating-rink this weekend.

"Anyway, I would also like to introduce our representatives from the Ministry for Magic. Ludovic Bagman, Head of the Department for Magical Games and Sports." Bagman stood and bowed to the applause. "And Mrs. G. Crump, the honorable Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, who has very graciously agreed to take time from her duties to serve as one of the judges for the Triwizard." The elderly woman stood and curtsied to her own wave of applause. "And a final round of applause, please, for the Aurors who have kindly offered their services to ensure our safety: Aurors Tonks, Shacklebolt, Jones, and Black, and retired Senior Auror Alastor Moody." This group received the loudest cheering yet, as the students had gotten accustomed to the Aurors, especially Sirius.

"Well, I believe I've held up dinner long enough." Harry clapped his hands three times and the magnificent feast appeared. Harry stepped down from the podium and joined his friends at Gryffindor table, unaware that a number of eyes were on him.

"Great speech, Harry," Dean said.

"Yeah, a little schmaltzy, but you still had them practically eating out of your hands," Neville added.

"Excuze me," came a soft, feminine voice behind them. "'av you finished with ze bouillabaisse?"

It was Fleur Delacour. Just as Harry remembered her with her silvery blonde hair and her deep blue eyes. For some reason, Harry thought she looked haughtier than when he last saw her.

"Certainly, Mademoiselle," Harry said, pushing the dish towards her.

"_Merci beaucoup_."

"Still being a charmer, Harry," Hermione said dryly as Fleur departed.

"It's only proper for me to be polite," Harry replied with a shrug. "After all, she is technically one of my guests. Hey, Neville, what do you think of…Neville?"

But Neville was staring after Fleur with a dazed expression on his face. Harry sighed and gave his friend a light slap on the cheek.

"Huh? What?" Neville said, coming out of his trace. "What happened?"

"Veela allure," Harry answered simply.

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry," Hermione said with an irritated glance at Fleur, who was currently eyeing Harry with undisguised interest.

"I'm not, that girl is part veela. How else do you explain what happened to Neville?"

"Then why aren't _you_ drooling after her?"

Harry shrugged and kept smiling naively at his best friend.

* * *

Omake (in the original work, Lucius got arrested but I forgot I had made that happen. This is how I explained it away):

While the kids at Hogwarts were preparing for the karaoke night, a group of Death Eaters were meeting up.

"Welcome, my friends," said Lucius Malfoy, "it has been a long time since we were last gathered together like this. I-"

"Hold on a second!" said Amycus Carrow. "Lucius, how on earth are you even here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the last I heard, you were arrested after you got caught at the attack on the World Cup. Come to think of it, didn't Sirius Black run you over with a Muggle vehicle?"

"So?"

"So, shouldn't you at least be in intensive care at St. Mungo's? Come to think of it, shouldn't half the people in this room be in Azkaban by now? After all, the Aurors caught a good number of us. So, what exactly happened? And if anyone dares to say the word 'plot-hole,' then I swear to Merlin that I will Crucio you so bad it will make the Longbottoms seem like perfectly fit and mentally sound members of society."

Everyone exchanged looks.

"You know, Amycus, I've been wondering that myself," said Yaxley. "Lucius, how _did_ you get out of going to Azkaban this time?"

"Ah, now that is a very interesting and exciting story," said Lucius smugly. "You see, what happened was…"

We interrupt this passage to annoy you and make things generally irritating.

"…with a large piece of wet paper," said Lucius. "Turn the paper over, keeping your eye on the camel, and paste down the edge of the sailor's uniform until the name 'Maudling' is almost totally obscured. And that is how I evaded arrest."

Omake (How Fred and George respond to their grandmother's portrait arriving at the Burrow):

Fred and George were sitting in front of a portrait of their late grandmother; they had always liked their Gran and had been very sad when she died. She had actually been the one to teach them how to unlock doors using hairpins (a trick, she told them, that had enabled her to escape from her room where she was being held prisoner by her family in their attempt to prevent her from eloping with Septimus Weasley). Cedrella's portrait had decided it was time for the twins to get the special talk reserved for all her prank-loving descendants.

"You see, boys," she said. "There are many people in the world today who, through no fault of their own, are sane. Some of them were born sane; some of them became sane later in their lives. It is up to people like you and me, who are out of our tiny little minds, to try and help these people overcome their sanity. You can start in small ways, such as with ping-pong ball eyes and a funny voice. Then you can paint half of your body red and the other half green. And then you can jump up and down in a bucket of treacle going: SQUAWK, SQUICK, SQWAK, SQUIRK! And then you can go: NAAGH, NAAGH, NAAGH! And then you can roll around on the floor going: PTING, PTING! PTING, PTING!"

Both Fred and George had maniacal grins.

"Remember this lesson well, my boys," she concluded. "It is part of family obligation to fight against sanity. Make me proud, lads."

* * *

**Author's Note****: Sorry to cut this short, but I was feeling rather rushed in getting this out. Thanks for reading, please review.**


	19. How Not to be Seen

He's Not Dead Yet

**If I ever even think about not finishing this story, I want everyone to send me Howlers to tell me to get my lazy arse moving. Show no mercy.**

**Oh, and someone was confused about how Sirius is working as an Auror when I already said that he was teaching a class on Animagus transformation. The explanation is that he is teaching the class in his spare time, for the rest of the time he is on guard duty with the other Aurors.**

**I also wanted to mention that it was my birthday recently. I am twenty years old, as of January 22****nd****.**

**Lastly, I wanted to mention that some lines and description are taken right from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire as I found it easier to just use what Rowling wrote for the parts unaffected by my story.**

**I don't own Harry Potter or Monty Python.**

How Not to be Seen

Dumbledore was in a predicament. He had been hoping that a disguised Death Eater would enter the castle on the pretext of entering Harry Potter in the Triwizard; this would help drive a wedge between Harry and the other students who would undoubtedly think Harry cheated and therefore isolate the boy from his supporters. Dumbledore was also certain that this would be the time for Voldemort to rise again, meaning that the old headmaster's plans could proceed. Now, however, it looked like he'd have to take matters into his own hands.

"Ah, Ronald, thank you for meeting with me," said Dumbledore.

"Certainly, sir," said Ron. "What did you want to talk about?"

"I need you to help me with a very important mission."

Ron puffed out his chest arrogantly.

"Of course, Headmaster."

"I need you to put this into the Goblet of Fire." Dumbledore handed Ron a slip of parchment that contained Harry Potter's name and was specially charmed with a Confundus that would trick the Goblet into making the person named on it the fourth champion.

"Yes, sir, but…how will I get past the Age Line?"

"I have timed the Age Line to deactivate from midnight until one o'clock in the morning. That should give you plenty of time to sneak down there and complete the assignment."

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, and here is a permission form to be out of bed in case you run into any teachers."

"Thank you, sir."

Ron walked back to Gryffindor Tower with a smug look on his face. The great Albus Dumbledore had chosen _him_, Ronald Weasley, for an important mission. What Ron didn't realize was that there was a fiercely protective house-elf by the name of Dobby who was watching his every move and who had magically changed the name on the parchment.

* * *

Meanwhile, at an old manor house in Little Hangleton, a very evil man…er, sort of, was currently seething. Nothing seemed to be going his way lately. His spy had been outed before even entering the castle and now he had no way of ensuring that Potter would be in the graveyard. Voldemort hadn't even been allowed the satisfaction of killing the old Muggle caretaker who lived on the property as the old man had mysteriously won an all-expenses paid vacation to the Caribbean and wouldn't be back for the remainder of the year.

Yes, things certainly weren't looking up for Voldemort. Then, a thought occurred to the Dark Wanker…erm, I mean Dark Lord.

"Lucius!" he called out.

"Yes, my Lord?" the nervous blonde man replied.

"Didn't you say that you have a son at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, my Lord. My son Draco."

"Ah, yes, Dorko, that's it."

"Draco, my Lord," Lucius corrected.

"Don't correct me! Now, I want you to send a message to Dorko that he is to enter Potter's name in the Triwizard Tournament and finish the job that Barty failed."

"Yes, my Lord."

Lucius hurried away to send a letter to his son. With it, he enclosed a piece of parchment that was specially Confunded to trick the Goblet of Fire. He also instructed Draco to use the Levitation Charm to drop the parchment into the Goblet in order to circumvent the Age Line. What Lucius and Draco didn't realize is that nothing escapes the attention of a fanatical house-elf by the name of Dobby.

* * *

Everyone met for dinner the following evening with great anticipation. It was almost time for the champion selection. Karkaroff was still unable to access the castle and was currently brooding in his bedroom on the ship about the perceived slight; however, none of his students minded his absence in the least. Harry, meanwhile, was not the least bit worried over something happening; he had entrusted Dobby to make sure no one tried to slip his name into the Goblet (he really should have been a bit more specific in his instructions, as he was soon to learn).

Soon enough, the magnificent Halloween feast vanished from the tables and silence fell over the hall.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" - he indicated the door behind the staff table - "where they will be receiving their first instructions."

Dumbledore gave a sweep of his wand and all the lights, save for those in the jack-o'lanterns, went out, lending an eerie quality to the room.

"Show off," Harry muttered.

The Goblet of Fire began to burn brighter before the flames turned suddenly red as a scrap of parchment flew into the air and was caught by Dumbledore.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he declared, "will be Viktor Krum!"

"No surprises there!" yelled Ron as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall.

Harry saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table and slouch up toward Dumbledore; he turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.

As the cheering died down, the Goblet again turned red as another piece of parchment shot out of it.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," Dumbledore read, "is Fleur Delacour!"

"Oh look, they're all disappointed," Hermione said over the noise, nodding toward the remainder of the Beauxbatons party. "Disappointed" was a bit of an understatement, Harry thought. Two of the girls who had not been selected had dissolved into tears and were sobbing with their heads on their arms.

Fleur also walked up to the headmaster before turning and heading off in the same direction as Viktor.

For the third time the Goblet's flames turned red as the supposedly final champion was decided.

"The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!" Dumbledore called out as the Hogwarts students burst into applause.

Cedric, too, made his way after the other champions.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real -"

But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.

The Goblet of Fire had turned red once again. Unnoticed by anyone, Dumbledore was smiling that his plan was evidently working. That smile, however, disappeared as two scraps of parchment flew out of the Goblet and into his hand.

Dumbledore's eyes widened in shock and horror as he read out the two names.

"Draco Malfoy and Ronald Weasley!"

* * *

The instant Harry and his friends got back to the Founders' quarters, they all burst out laughing. Ron and Draco had both reacted very differently when their names were called. Draco had blanched and looked very uneasy, while Ron had been absolutely ecstatic. The judges had all been outraged that something like this could happen, while Dumbledore had gotten very morose and hadn't said much to anyone. The overall decision was that Ron and Draco would have to compete as they had both been declared champions.

"I can't wait to see how they'll mess this up," Harry said gleefully.

"But, Harry, didn't you say that the tasks will be incredibly dangerous?" Hermione inquired.

"Yes, and I won't lose a bit of sleep if something should happen to the red-haired garbage disposal or the albino ferret."

"Harry, I think your vendetta against Ron and Draco is making you overlook one important thing."

"What?"

"We're supposed to be making a good impression with the other schools. How do you think this will look to them?"

"She does have a point, Harry," Neville conceded.

"I wouldn't be too worried about it," said Luna.

"Why do you say that, Luna?" asked Harry.

"Because of the retaliation tactics. The rest of the school won't take kindly to Ronald and Draco after this and will be only too willing to make an example of them."

"What about the anti-bullying policy? You know full-well that any form of bullying is to be punished, even if the victims are gits who deserve it."

Luna just smiled brightly.

"Every rule has a loophole."

* * *

While the new anti-bullying policy called for an end to discrimination, cruel and demeaning pranks (as opposed to innocent, harmless ones), violence, and various other actions that could be deemed harmful to a person's mental and physical wellbeing, it did have a few concessions; one example being a situation of self-defense, defense of someone else, or the protection of personal or school property.

Ronald and Draco had to learn that the hard way.

Draco had gotten over his initial fear and had come under the impression that this was both a good thing for his reputation and his mission. He had attempted to rally his former supporters into wearing Weasley Stinks/Support Draco Malfoy badges; however, as much as the other Slytherins wished they could insult Weasley, there was no way they would support a ponce like Malfoy (even those who still followed Voldemort wouldn't be caught dead rallying behind Malfoy). Malfoy, in his anger, had tried to order a group of first year Slytherins to wear the badges and, when they refused, attempted to hex them; this was a huge mistake as one of the first students he attempted to hex was Astoria Greengrass, and it just so happened that Daphne entered the common room at precisely that moment. Draco ended up with many, many injuries and a week of detention.

Ronald had started vying for attention the morning after he had been named a champion. He had strolled into the Great Hall, slapped several attractive girls on the backside, and jumped onto the Gryffindor table calling for people to praise him. The result of this was that his brothers both Stunned him ("It was for his own protection," Fred assured the teachers. "If he kept talking, he would've been badly injured.") and Ron now had several angry witches plotting his demise.

Of course, fellow students were the least of Ron's and Draco's problems. It just so happened that, the day after, both boys received Howlers from their respective mothers. Throughout breakfast, the Great Hall was filled with the mingled shouting of both Molly Weasley and Narcissa Malfoy, with either woman berating her son for his foolish decision to enter the Triwizard. Draco had never felt so thoroughly embarrassed in his entire life, while Ron merely turned an ugly shade of puce and shoveled down another helping of eggs and bacon.

Harry had offered a sincere apology to the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, assuring them that this was wholly unexpected and that neither Ron nor Draco represented Hogwarts despite being students there. Surprisingly, the two other schools believed him (well, with the exception of Karkaroff); in fact, the visiting schools were very understanding as they both had students like Ron and Draco who had been left behind specifically to avoid causing embarrassment.

* * *

The day of the Weighing of the Wands brought back many unpleasant memories for Harry, until he remembered that he wouldn't have to go through any of it, causing him to smile throughout the entirety of the day, something which worried his friends.

"Harry, are you all right?" Hermione asked as they reached Potions class.

"Never better, Hermione. Things in my life are certainly looking up. In case you've forgotten, I told you what it was like for me in the last timeline when I'd been named the fourth champion."

"Oh, right. I guess I can understand why you'd be happy, then."

"Oi! Potter!" came a familiar voice. Harry turned around to see Draco Malfoy swagger up to him. "I guess I finally got one over on you, eh, Potter? Who's the champion _this _time?"

"Cedric Diggory?" Harry said bemusedly.

"No! Well, yes, but I am as well! And I'll show that idiotic pretty-boy who the real Hogwarts champion is."

"Malfoy, you and Weasley will never, I repeat, _never_ be champion of Hogwarts. You may be in the Triwizard, but Cedric Diggory is the one representing the best that our school has to offer."

Unbeknownst to Harry, a large contingent of Hufflepuffs happened to be passing at that precise moment and the news quickly spread.

Malfoy, however, feeling empowered by his mission from Voldemort chose that moment to forget the power that Harry had and attacked. Just like last time, Malfoy shot off a tooth-enlarging spell that hit Hermione, provoking Harry to attack with a nasty pimple hex that struck Malfoy cleanly on the nose.

"What's going on out here?!" demanded Mr. Preston, emerging from the Potions classroom.

"Malfoy attacked Harry!" someone in the crowd shouted.

"He got Hermione instead," Harry added, holding up his friend who was desperately trying to hide her rapidly growing teeth.

"Please escort Miss Granger to the hospital wing," Mr. Preston instructed.

"Potter attacked me as well, Professor," Malfoy retorted. "Look what he did to my face!"

"You were asking for that by hexing a fellow student." Mr. Preston looked over Malfoy's face. "I'd tell you to go to the hospital yourself but I recognize that hex. It can't be dispelled magically so you'll just have to wait for the acne to go away on its own."

"Mr. Preston!" called out a younger student, who'd suddenly appeared on the scene. "It's time for the Weighing of the Wands. All the champions have to be present."

"What's so important that it must drag two students away from class?"

"I'm not sure, sir. But Mr. Bagman said something about a reporter and photographs for the _Daily Prophet_."

Mr. Preston and all the other students fought to suppress their grins.

"Very well, then. Mr. Malfoy, you may go."

Malfoy sulked as he followed the other student. Along the way, the two of them met up with Ron Weasley, who was following Colin Creevey for the same reason. The two fourth year rivals glared at each other and began to boast about how either of them planned to outshine the other. Needless to say, Colin and the other student were relieved when they finally got to the classroom where the meeting was being held.

Meanwhile, Harry was holding Hermione's hand as Madam Pomfrey shrunk her teeth. Harry smiled slightly as Hermione asked the nurse to keep shrinking them so that they weren't as large as they had been before Malfoy's hex.

"You didn't have to do that," Harry said as they headed back to class. "Your teeth were just fine the way they were."

"I know it's silly," said Hermione. "It's just that I used to get teased a lot when I was little because of how big my front teeth were. My parents always said I should get braces, but I feel like this was much easier." She hadn't stopped smiling since they'd left the hospital wing.

"Well, I suppose it was worth it if you smile like that more often." His expression then became somber. "I think I need to have a word with Malfoy's mother about his behavior."

Later, as they were all headed down to dinner, Harry found himself accosted by another person who ranked on his "Most Hated" list. Rita Skeeter had decided to make her unwelcome appearance.

"Lord Potter, what a pleasure to finally meet you," she said with a hungry gleam in her eye. "You wouldn't mind giving a quick interview about the tournament, would you?"

"Actually, I would mind," Harry replied evenly. "You see, I've signed an agreement with _The Quibbler_. If anyone other than that magazine publishes something involving me without my express permission, that person will be in for a very severe lawsuit."

Skeeter did not look at all pleased and Harry had a feeling that it wouldn't be the last he saw of her. But Harry wasn't too worried; after all, she couldn't write anything about him and he knew about her being an illegal Animagus.

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy was quite shocked to receive a letter from Harry Potter that evening, and thoroughly annoyed when she discovered just what her imbecilic son had both done and tried to do. Narcissa had never wanted to marry Lucius and hated every moment she spent married to him; the fact that he was always letting their son toss around the Malfoy name like it was an automatic pass to get whatever he wanted only angered her more. As much as Narcissa cared about her son, there was no denying that the boy was stupid, arrogant, headstrong, and not likely to amount to anything.

Narcissa took a moment to ponder over what she wanted out of life and her mind was instantly set as she pulled out two sheaves of parchment and began to write.

The first letter was an apology to Harry over her son's behavior. The second, however, was one to her cousin.

_Dear Lord Black,_

_As a daughter of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, I humbly request your permission to seek a divorce against my husband and to be reinstated into the family as a Black. It was never my intention to marry Lucius Malfoy and is something I deeply regret. I bear no ill-will towards you and yours, nor do I have any genuine devotion to the one who calls himself Voldemort. I feel that any further continuation of my being married to Lucius Malfoy would be of utmost disgrace to our family and to you._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Narcissa Cassiopeia Malfoy nee Black_

* * *

The article in the _Daily Prophet_ was only regarded with amusement because of how ridiculous Malfoy looked and how both his and Ron's image in the photograph kept fighting over who was closer to the front of the picture. For any genuine news on the Triwizard, people relied upon _The Quibbler_.

Of course, Ron and Draco both had to share a section in the article that was only about a paragraph long; and the accompanying photograph involved the two joint champions pushing each other out of the way.

_In a surprising twist of fate_, the section read, _two other students were selected in addition to Hogwarts champion Cedric Diggory. These students are Slytherin fourth-year, Dorko Malfoy, son of the convicted Death Eater Lucius Malfoy, and Gryffindor fourth-year, Ronald Obvious. It is unclear how both boys managed to trick the Goblet of Fire into making them champions, but we wish them the best of luck._

It wasn't until after the paper was already printed and distributed that Rita realized she had accidentally given Ron the last name of her Squib cousin in Neepsend, Sheffield by mistake. However, she brushed off the typo, deeming it unimportant, and returned to her primary task of getting even with Harry Potter for refusing to give her an interview.

* * *

The Saturday before the first task had arrived, and it saw Harry and his friends all heading down to Hogsmeade. It was a chilly November morning and everyone was bundled up against the cold. Hogsmeade certainly looked different than it had just last year, there were a good deal more shops and the addition of a park that had been spelled to produce flowers all year round was a welcome change. But it was the ice-skating rink that attracted the most attention lately.

"I'm not sure about this, Harry," said an anxious Daphne. "I've never been ice-skating before."

"What a coincidence," he said. "Neither have I."

"What?!"

Before Daphne had time to protest, however, Harry had led her out onto the rink. The others all cheered as Harry and his lovely companion slowly began to glide across the ice. Luckily, the rink was warded with an anti-slipping spell, so that was definitely a plus.

"My turn next!" Tracey called after them as they skated past.

Sirius and Bathsheba were also out on the rink, but they were performing much more skillful moves than the students. Remus merely watched his friend in amusement while Nymphadora (call-me-that-and-you-die) Tonks chatted amicably with him; when Remus asked why Tonks wasn't out on the rink herself, she pointed out that, even with the anti-tripping spell, she would probably still make a fool of herself, something which Remus adamantly refused to believe.

It was a cheerful lot that made their way into the Three Broomsticks for butterbeers, unaware that they were being followed by a certain reporter. Harry was having a great deal of fun that day, so he had unintentionally let his guard down as he sat amidst the large group of friends who were all crowded around several neighboring tables.

He was suddenly drawn out of his reverie by the flash of a camera and the most unwelcome sight of Rita Skeeter.

"Hello again, Lord Potter," she said with a toothy grin. "Do hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"As a matter of fact, you are," Harry retorted. "And I must remind you that any unauthorized use of my name or image will be swiftly dealt with."

"Oh, not to worry, Lord Potter. I can assure you that _your_ image will be left out of this photograph."

Harry didn't like the way she said that.

Without another word, Skeeter and her photographer made their departure.

* * *

It wasn't until late in the evening when Harry remembered he had yet to inform Cedric of the dragons. He had just risen from his seat to go in search of the Hogwarts champion when he paused, wondering if the first task still involved dragons. He had just contemplated throwing on his Invisibility Cloak and going out to scour the woods, when a letter arrived for him.

"Thanks, Hedwig," Harry said, taking the letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_As I am sure you are aware, I am on very good terms with Charlie Weasley of the Romanian Dragon Preserve. Just thought you might want to know that he is planning to be there for the first task to "make sure his brother comes out of it all right." They've been having a bit of trouble with some negotiations at the preserve, but the situation should be resolved before the coming Tuesday._

_Oh, and send my best wishes to Cedric Diggory. It's about time Hufflepuff got some recognition._

_Sincerely,_

_Red_

Harry suppressed a chuckle. Leave it to Red to send him the least subtle coded message ever. As Harry went off to find Cedric, he wondered if he should tell Ron and Draco; sure, they may be complete and utter bastards, but on the other hand…well, Harry was sure he'd think up a reason to tell them before Tuesday.

* * *

And while all that was going on, Ginny Weasley was scheming. She was determined to win Harry Potter's affection by the end of the year. Unfortunately, she hadn't been able to slip him any of the love potions her mother had sent her to Hogwarts with. Ginny had decided she would try to win Harry over the old-fashioned way before risking another attempt at love potion. She'd recently purchased some new clothes and makeup and was now taking every opportunity she could to attract Harry's attention, hoping he would finally take notice of the fact that she was every bit of a woman as that bushy-haired bookworm Hermione, or that addle-brained bimbo Luna, or even those two Slytherin sluts Greengrass and Davis.

Ginny had complained to Ron about how Harry wasn't noticing her, but Ron was more focused on his own wounded pride. She'd then brought up how much time Harry was spending with, not only Hermione, but several of the most attractive witches in school, and Ron had gotten furious and promised to help Ginny get Harry to notice her simply out of spite.

The youngest Weasley certainly wasn't without encouragement in her pursuit of Harry. Headmaster Dumbledore had called her to his office and instructed her to win Harry over by any means necessary as it was imperative that Ginny become the new Lady Potter (in addition to Lady of all the other families Harry was Lord of). Dumbledore had been most insistent that Harry only have one wife for all the titles, with Ginny being the prime candidate. The reason for this particular choice was that Ginny was firmly with the Light side, her mother and her brother were still avidly pro-Dumbledore, and the fact that she was very easy to manipulate. With Ginny Weasley as Lady of all those families, Dumbledore would have a means of controlling all that wealth and power as long as Harry was swayed by Ginny who would be swayed by Dumbledore.

The only problem with that plan was that Harry seemed to have no apparent interest in Ginny whatsoever.

* * *

After a long argument with Hermione over the moral dilemma of whether or not to tell Ron and Draco, Harry finally gave in on Monday morning, his "saving people thing" and Hermione's insistence that it was "only fair" outweighing his desire to see the traitor and the mini-Death Eater get roasted.

"Ron," Harry said as politely as he could, "just wanted you to know that the first task involves dragons."

"Ha! Yeah right, like I'd believe that," Ron sneered.

"No really, Ron, there are actually dragons."

"I'm not falling for it, Harry. You're just trying to scare me because you're jealous that I'm champion and you aren't."

"I wouldn't joke about something like that, Ronald Weasley," Harry said angrily, startled by how much he sounded like Hermione in that moment. "I'm just trying to warn you because the other champions know and I wanted it to be fair. But, if you don't believe me, that's your problem."

As Harry turned and walked away, Ron got annoyed.

"There's no way they'd make us fight dragons," he said. "I'm not falling for it."

Harry decided to be a bit more indirect with Draco, knowing that the git would react the same way. Instead, he arranged for Malfoy's girlfriend, Pansy Parkinson, to "overhear" a conversation.

"So, Harry," Neville said once they were certain Parkinson was listening, "what do you suppose the first task will be?"

"I don't 'suppose' anything, Neville," Harry replied. "I know what the tasks are all going to be."

Pansy froze, listening intently.

"Are you going to tell Weasley and Malfoy?"

"I tried to tell Ron, but he wouldn't listen. As for Malfoy, I would tell him but I doubt he'd listen either. They both hate me enough to think I'd joke about something so dangerous. A pity there isn't someone who could send the message for me," Harry said a little more loudly to ensure Parkinson heard. "Oh well, I hope those dragons like the taste of morons."

"Are there really dragons, Harry?"

"There most certainly are. One for each of the champions. Guess it's going to be quite a show tomorrow."

Pansy quickly hurried off to tell Draco of his impending doom…um, challenge.

Harry, realizing he'd done his good deed for the day, made his way to his Ethics class.


	20. Salad Days

He's Not Dead Yet

**Thanks for all your comments, favs, and follows. I've had a number of very helpful suggestions from my readers, especially ****Darth Void Sage of the Force****, and I just wanted the opportunity to express my gratitude to you all, even the people who feel it is necessary to point out plot-holes (if Rowling can have plot-holes and get away with it, so can I).**

**I deeply apologize for the delay. I'm back in school and, consequently, have a lot of work I need to do.**

**Also, if you have read the fanfic "Harry Potter and the Champion's Champion" you will recognize a plot-device which I have borrowed to make the story interesting.**

**Don't own Harry Potter, blah, blah, blah…blah.**

Salad Days

It was the morning of the first task, and Harry had never been so relieved that he wasn't going to be facing the dragon. He had tried, several times, to convince Ron that there were dragons, but the arrogant ponce wouldn't listen; therefore, Harry decided, it was on Ron's own head if he got roasted. Malfoy had been looking paler than usual all morning and seemed to be muttering things under his breath.

Breakfast passed relatively quietly, though something occurred to Harry as he and his friends chatted about the upcoming event. Daphne, who was sitting at Gryffindor table that morning with Harry's group, kept shooting glares in the direction of Fleur Delacour; nothing instantly noticeable, of course, merely a narrowed gaze and a dark expression.

"Any particular reason you don't like the Beauxbatons champion?" Harry asked her quietly.

"No," Daphne replied evenly. "Whatever gave you _that_ impression?"

"You keep looking at her like she ate your kitten or something."

Daphne shot a quick glance at Tracey, who looked down at her breakfast as if she were studying a particularly interesting Arithmancy problem.

"It's nothing, Harry, really," Daphne denied.

"Daph, you know you can tell me anything, right? We're all friends here."

"I know," she said quietly.

Harry decided not to get involved. It was obvious Daphne was hiding something and Tracey knew about it, but Harry wisely chose not to pry into other people's business. They all quickly finished up breakfast, went to their morning classes, and then returned for lunch when they noticed McGonagall ordering Weasley and Malfoy out to the grounds where the first task would take place.

"Hey, Harry," said Fred and George as the two sat down.

"We were wondering-" said Fred.

"Just an inkling, really-" George added.

"If you'd be interested in our betting pool?"

"You two have a betting pool going?" Harry asked.

"Certainly, my dear Lord Potter."

"We're fairly certain Cedric will have the best marks."

"Though Krum and the Beauxbatons champion could get pretty close."

"However, the biggest wager going about-"

"Is who will get creamed worse-"

"Malfoy or our dear little brother."

Harry and Hermione exchanged uncertain looks.

"You'd really bet on how severely injured your own brother is going to be?" said Hermione.

"Don't worry, Granger," said Fred dismissively. "I'm sure the Ministry has some safeguards in place for the champions."

"Yeah, they wouldn't want a repeat of the massacres that happened in the old tournaments," George added.

"Attention, students!" came an announcement. Everyone looked up to see McGonagall. "The first task is about to begin. Please finish up your meals and make your way down to the stadium."

"Stadium?" Neville inquired as they all rose from their seats. "Since when do we have a stadium?"

"They set it up for the first task," Harry explained. "As the owner of Hogwarts, I had to give my consent to it being constructed."

They all made their way down towards the forest where the large stadium had been erected. It wasn't anywhere near as big as the World Cup stadium, but it would certainly accommodate all of Hogwarts, and then some. Harry and his friends had just found a row of benches to themselves when they were stopped by a familiar and unwelcome voice.

"Hello, Harry dear." It was Molly Weasley, accompanied by Ginny.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said through clenched teeth.

"I came out here to cheer on my little ronnikins. I am so terribly worried he might hurt himself."

"Yes that would be such a…_tragedy_." The sarcasm in his statement flew right over the woman's head.

"Anyway, Harry dear, why don't you take a seat here next to Ginny."

"Actually, Mrs. Weasley, I was going to seat between Hermione and Neville. No offence, but they are closer friends of mine than Ginny."

Mrs. Weasley looked incredibly put out. Ginny had written to her at least once a week since school started to let her know that all her attempts at giving Harry a love potion had failed. Molly was of the mind that the 'dear boy' just needed a little push in the right direction, one that would lead to Harry falling irrevocably in love with Ginny.

Harry, however, had been on to the plot since before the year even began.

"I certainly hope this task doesn't go on for too long," Harry said calmly as he sat in between his friends. "I have to attend a Wizengamot meeting later today."

"Oh, Harry dear, I don't see why you need to be so involved with politics at such a young age," Molly stated. "I'm sure there are plenty of trustworthy and reliable people you could have represent you there instead." Harry suspected she was referring to Dumbledore.

"I'm afraid that this particular meeting is one I have to be at in person. I am putting forth a bill that will officially make love potions illegal."

Molly and Ginny appeared about ready to start choking.

"Harry," Ginny said nervously, "why would you want to do that?"

"Love potions are basically the magical version of what Muggles call 'date-rape drugs,'" he explained. "I intend to see to it that nobody ever has to be put through something like that and that those who would do such a thing are punished. _Severely_."

Mother and daughter both went silent and stared blankly down into the arena below, oblivious to the satisfied smirk on Harry's face.

* * *

Meanwhile, down in the champions' tent…

The champions were all waiting nervously for the task to start. Well, all the champions except for Ron; he was just casually reading a Quidditch magazine and eating some snacks he had pilfered from the twins' trunk (unaware that they were actually experimental prank sweets which would not take effect until a particular moment in time). Ron looked up from his magazine at the sound of an argument outside the tent.

"…endangering a whole generation of dragons," a woman said. Ron realized that it was the weird girl that Charlie had invited to the World Cup during the summer; the one who told him he needed to learn some table-manners. _Hmph, what does she know?_ Ron sneered mentally as he stuffed another snack in his mouth.

"I assure you that the dragon eggs will be perfectly safe," Ludo Bagman replied to the irate woman. "Besides, they lend authenticity and-"

"Lord Potter specifically informed me that the real dragon eggs will not be allowed anywhere near this match on the grounds that they could get damaged," Red snapped. "Charlie, back me up here."

"She makes a valid argument, Mr. Bagman," Charlie Weasley agreed. "The golden eggs that the champions will be retrieving will be the only eggs in this task."

"But-but…" the man sputtered.

"Honestly, they'll make _anyone_ a department head these days," Red muttered as she and Charlie walked away. "Anyway, good luck keeping those dragons under control, Charlie."

"I'll need it. That Hungarian Horntail and Manchurian Man-Eater are real tough pieces of work. I really pity the poor saps who have to go up against them."

"Well, here's to a hopefully successful tournament," Red concluded, giving the young man a quick kiss on the cheek. "See you after the task; we can go out for a butterbeer."

While Charlie grinned and waved goodbye to his date, the champions were being called to attention. Mr. Bagman strolled into the tent to address the champions.

"Well, now we're all here – time to fill you in," he said. "The audience has assembled outside in the stadium and now I am going to pass around this bag to each of you. From it you will remove a model of the thing you are about to face. There are different – er – varieties, you see. Your task is to retrieve the golden egg." He turned to Fleur. "Ladies first."

Fleur reached into the bag and pulled out a small, moving replica of a Welsh Green. After her, Krum stepped forward and withdrew a Chinese Fireball. Then Cedric reached in and was given the Swedish Short-Snout. Shaking, Malfoy stepped up an pulled out the Hungarian Horntail, almost causing the boy to faint.

"Mr. Weasley, your turn," said Bagman.

"Huh? Oh, right." Ron reached into the bag and gave a cry of "OUCH!" as the miniature Manchurian Man-Eater bit at his fingers. "Little bastard," Ron growled at the tiny dragon. _Wait, what did he say we were doing this for again? Ah, well, it's probably not important. I wonder what the first task's going to be. Probably something worthy of a champion of my skills like another giant chess set._

"Well, then, Mr. Diggory, it seems you will be going first," said Bagman. "You will simply enter the enclosure when you hear the sound of the whistle. Best of luck to you all!"

* * *

"You know something?" Harry said. "This is really stupid."

"I agree," said Susan from the seat behind Harry. "How exactly is something akin to gladiatorial combat supposed to strengthen international magical cooperation?"

"Oh, well, there's that, but I was referring to the concept of having students fighting dragons. It really doesn't say much about an establishment if this is how we take a student's safety."

"Oh, look, it's Malfoy's turn," said Luna, pointing distractedly at the arena.

Malfoy froze in terror as he locked gazes with the giant monster he was supposed to be facing. That paralysis lasted all of about thirty seconds before he screamed and started running, the Horntail hot on his heels. Harry had to fight back joining in the laughter that echoed from the stands. The dragon-handlers, realizing that things were going wrong, attempted to intervene and save the frantic teenager; unfortunately, there was something they didn't count on. Whatever product it was that Malfoy put in his hair had some ingredient that bore a particular scent, undetectable to humans, that was distinctly similar to the pheromones of the Hungarian Horntail's favorite food: sheep.

The Horntail was not acting in defense of the golden egg, it was acting out of a desire for its midday meal. A curious thing about the Hungarian Horntails' feeding habit is that they like to toss their prey into the air, send a small blast of fire to roast them, and let them drop to the ground before devouring them. Unfortunately for Draco, that's just what this particular Horntail was starting to do. It had grabbed the youth by the back of his clothes, tossed him into the air, and had sent out a blast of fire. By sheer quick-thinking, one of the dragon-handlers managed to send a spell that redirected the flames away from Draco and placed a Cushioning Charm on the rock he was about to crash into. By a strange sequence of events, the dragon's fire had instead impacted with the golden egg, which Draco had grabbed during his descent.

It took the young Slytherin a few moments before he realized how hot the object he was holding was and let out the most girlish scream anyone had ever heard from a boy in the history of the world. All things considered, Malfoy didn't score as horribly as he could have. Madam Maxime gave him a five, Bagman a six, the representative for Durmstrang (as Karkaroff still couldn't enter the grounds) gave him a four, Dumbledore a seven, and Mrs. Crump from the ICW gave him another five.

"Well, that was…interesting," said Harry. He knew Draco was a coward, but seeing the ferret run and scream like that was just embarrassing. Harry was definitely grateful that he hadn't ever really recognized Draco as his real arch-nemesis, reserving that title for old Moldyshorts, as considering Draco as more than an annoyance would be absolutely humiliating.

"This task has just gotten disgraceful," said Neville. "I could be back at the Founders' Quarters doing more research on that project of mine."

"Let's just wait and see if Ron makes it out in one piece," said Harry. "Then we can leave."

After the handlers had removed the Horntail, they brought out the Manchurian Man-Eater. It was considerably bigger than the Horntail, and looked a lot meaner; it might not have had the large spikes, but the demonic grin and piercing red eyes boded ill for Ronald Weasley.

Ronald, however, was not in the least bit concerned as he heard the whistle and walked out into the arena. He glanced around, grinning, searching for the giant chess set he was expecting to see when he heard a soft grunt above him and a wave of hot air hit the top of his head. He slowly raised his head until he locked eyes with the Manchurian Man-Eater as it smiled wickedly at the ginger. Ron decided that now would be the perfect time to scarf down what remained of the snacks he had nicked from the twins, triggering the effects that had, until that point, remained dormant.

"Fred?"

"Yes, George?"

"Isn't that our bag of experimental prank-sweets that Ron's eating?"

"I think it is, oh twin of mine."

The two exchanged nervous looks.

"That moron!" they said together.

You see, during the summer, the twins had been working on pranking objects using some suggestions that Harry had given them. One of the sweets was designed based on the Muggle joy-buzzer, though they hadn't worked out the kink in it that caused the eater to sprout tentacles. Another of the sweets was based on a spell Harry had told them about that could turn a person into a penguin for an extended period of time. A combination of these sweets with several others the twins had been working on led to a peculiar reaction in their younger brother.

Before the entirety of Hogwarts and in front of several Ministry officials and news reporters, Ronald Weasley transformed into a giant, electric penguin with long, green tentacles.

"BRAK!" Ron screeched, flailing his arms…wings…tentacles? In his panic, he ended up striking the Manchurian Man-Eater, enraging it as the ends of the tentacles seemed to have stingers.

The dragon lunged for Ron, biting down into one of his wings and causing the boy…bird…whatever to freak out even more.

"Ronnie!" Molly Weasley shouted, attempting to leap out into the arena to help her son.

"Don't worry, Mum," Charlie assured her from the sidelines. "I'll handle it!"

Charlie might not have been particularly close with his youngest brother, he might not even have liked him a whole lot, but he was still a Weasley and they look after their family. So it was that the young dragon-handler jumped onto the back of the Manchurian and tried to wrestle it off his brother.

"Easy there, Mary," he said to the dragon. "Settle down, girl!"

It was only by sheer happenstance that this particular dragon happened to have been hand-reared specifically by Charlie since she was an egg and that she would only ever calm down if it was Charlie who handled her. Reluctantly, Mary the Manchurian Man-Eater relinquished her flailing prey and nuzzled her black, scaly head against her favorite human.

"Good girl," Charlie said.

Ron, on the other hand, was still running about frantically as blood shot out of the bite wound. Everyone stared, never expecting something as bizarre as that to happen; it almost looked as though the blood were shooting out in slow motion, making a "PSSSH" sound as it did so. It goes without saying that Ron's scores were decidedly lower than Draco's, with only Dumbledore scoring him a very generous score of four points.

As the Aurors managed to subdue Ron and cart him off to the hospital wing, Charlie exchanged a look with the dragon.

"I don't see what the big deal is," he said. "It was only a flesh wound after all."

* * *

The Wizengamot was called to order once the Lords and Ladies had taken their seats. Harry, as the one hoping to enact his new bill, was the first one to the floor. He threw a nervous look up at Hermione, Neville, and Luna who were seated in the guest section and they all smiled at him reassuringly.

"Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot," he began. "I would like to start off by thanking you for permitting me this chance to speak and put forward a bill to end what I believe is a serious threat to our society. I refer, of course, to those vile substances known as 'love potions.'"

There were some confused murmurs amongst the Wizengamot.

"Lord Potter, I fail to see how love potions are harmful," said one of the Lords. "They seem innocent enough."

"Harmless, Lord Jenkins? Let me put forward a question, then. Why is the Imperius Curse illegal?"

"Because it removes a person's free will, forcing them under the control of another."

"And what does a love potion do?"

The man stopped to think for a moment and his eyes widened in shock.

"I see," he said quietly. "You make a valid argument, Lord Potter."

"I still don't see what the problem is," a rather nasty-looking witch sneered. "Love potions have never been considered harmful and many people use them in arranged marriages when no prior feelings existed."

"You do realize that such a thing is already deemed illegal?" Harry said. "Like it or not, the magical community is still subject to the laws of Great Britain. Forcing someone to engage in the type of actions that love potions induce is considered rape." Harry paused for a moment. "You say that love potions aren't harmful, let me prove otherwise."

Harry slowly began to walk around the room, looking intently at the Lords and Ladies.

"The year is 1925. An unwary young man by the name of Tom Riddle happens to meet an impoverished witch by the name of Merope Gaunt. Merope offers him a drink and he accepts, unaware that it contains a powerful dosage of a Class A love potion, one of the most extreme categories that includes Amortentia and Tears of Venus (both of which are deemed legal). The young man became ensnared by the potion and was driven, against his will, to elope with Merope and to abandon his future, his family, and his own fiancée.

"During the course of the year, Merope became pregnant and stopped administering the love potion as she believed that Tom had genuinely fallen in love with her, or else would stay for the sake of their child. However, when Tom awoke from the potion-induced delirium, he was shocked and horrified to discover what had been done to him. He had lost just about everything he cared about and he remembered everything that he had done with Merope.

"What would you have done in the circumstances? Stay with your _rapist_ whose very presence repulses you, or leave at once and try to find at least some part of your old life that can be salvaged?" Harry noticed that the room had gone incredibly quiet. "You want to know what happened because one woman thought it was acceptable to use a mind-altering substance on an unwitting man? Lord Voldemort was the result, that's what!

"I ask you now; do you still think love potions are harmless?"

There was a moment of silence before the vote was called in. The decision was nearly unanimous. Love potions were now and forever illegal to use, sell, buy, or brew.

* * *

"That…was satisfying," Harry said once he and his friends were in the common room of the Founders' Quarters.

"You've done a great thing, Harry," Hermione said with a proud smile. "Really, what were they thinking? Allowing love potions to go unchecked for centuries. You've probably saved countless innocent people." If there was one thing Hermione admired more than anything else, it was someone who corrected injustice in a backwards and prejudiced society. That's why she had campaigned so strongly for house-elf rights in the old timeline.

Thinking back to the subject of house-elves caused Harry to remember Winky. She had been fired by Mr. Crouch in the last timeline, had that stayed the same in this timeline as well? Curious, Harry stood up and headed out, ignoring his friends' questions of where he was going. It took him only a few minutes to reach the school kitchens, Harry suspected that Hogwarts had realized his objective and magically altered herself to accommodate him.

Harry soon reached the familiar painting of the bowl of fruit that guarded the entrance to the kitchen. He tickled the image of the pear and the door swung open. Harry hadn't made it two paces into the kitchen when he was greeted by a swarm of delighted house-elves.

"Lord of Hoggywarts has come to see us!" one of the elves squeaked giddily.

"Anything we can be doing for Master Hoggywarts sir?" another added.

"Uhm, some tea would be fine," Harry said uncertainly and Harry thought there was going to be some sort of war over who would have the honor of bringing Harry his tea. Luckily, Harry was rescued by the sudden appearance of a more familiar elf.

"Dobby will be getting Master Harry Potter sir his tea," Dobby said firmly to the other elves. "Dobby is Master's personal elf!"

The other house-elves pouted in clear envy that Dobby had first call on serving the Lord of Hogwarts, but they all seemed to know better than to protest. Harry took a seat at a nearby table and Dobby brought him a full tea-service.

"Thanks, Dobby."

"Anything for Master Harry Potter sir."

"Dobby, I was wondering, have any new elves joined Hogwarts lately?" Harry asked, taking a sip of his tea.

"There is one, Master Harry Potter sir."

"Who?"

Dobby directed Harry's attention towards the fireplace where the very recognizable figure of Winky was huddled up sorrowfully drinking from a bottle of butterbeer.

"Dobby is bringing Winky to Hogwarts after bad man Mr. Crouch is giving her clothes. Dobby thinks Winky not happy serving school, though." Dobby threw a concerned look at Winky. "Winky is family elf and needs to bond with a master or mistress, or else Dobby thinks she will not get better, sir."

Harry slowly walked over to Winky and knelt down beside the little elf.

"Hello, Winky," he said calmly.

"You is Mister Harry Potter sir," she said. "Dobby is always talking 'bout how happy he is working for yous."

"I certainly hope he's happy working for me. How are you doing, Winky?"

"Winky misses having master," the elf sobbed. "Winky is a bad elf! She let down Master Crouch!"

"Winky, you are not a bad elf. You are a very good elf and I think it was wrong of Mr. Crouch to dismiss you."

"Winky doesn't like working at school. Winky wants a master or mistress to serve."

Harry thought for a moment about who needed a personal elf. He already had Dobby, and Winky clearly wanted to be a personal elf to her own master or mistress. That's when the thought struck him and he silently prayed that Hermione would forgive him for what he was about to do.

"I think I know a witch who is in need of a house-elf," Harry said.

Winky's large eyes lit up with hope.

* * *

"Please, Hermione," Harry begged quietly.

"Harry, I have some qualms about this," the brightest witch of her age replied. "If I accept Winky as my house-elf, what will she be getting in return? If I don't compensate her for her help, that is considered slavery."

"Hermione, you know I would never endorse something like slavery. House-elves control their magic through a bond with a master or mistress. The Hogwarts house-elves have developed a way to do that with the students, but Winky doesn't have that ability as it was created over centuries. Look at her." He nodded towards the house-elf who was looking up at Hermione with a pleading expression. "If she doesn't bond then her magic will fade and she could end up dying. Please, Hermione?"

Hermione looked at the little elf and felt her heart breaking a bit. Hermione, though she would never admit it, was a softie for the downtrodden and hopeless. Harry had assured her that, though there were some cruel wizards who abused their house-elves, the connection between wizard and elf was not slavery in and of itself. It was a symbiotic relationship that helped both.

"Winky," Hermione said after a moment, "if you want, I would be happy to take you on as my house-elf."

The look of absolute joy on the little elf's face would have warmed even one of the most frozen of hearts. Hermione joined hands with Winky and the two initiated the bond. Almost instantly, Winky looked ten times healthier than before.

"What can Winky be doing for Mistress Hermy?"


	21. No Time Toulouse

He's Not Dead Yet

**I'm not entirely certain how many chapters I'm going to have, only that it's going to be more than I anticipated. You see, I find it very hard to read fanfictions where, though they have only a few chapters, everything is crammed into a lengthy chapter as it makes it hard to pace myself whereas stories that have more chapters but things are spaced out a bit are much easier to read.**

**I've been trying not to put too much into any one chapter at a time, but it does get kind of hard.**

**I don't own Harry Potter, et cetera, et cetera.**

No Time Toulouse

The reactions to the first task were mixed and branched into various distinctions. The three _real_ champions were applauded for their outstanding performances and _The Quibbler_ ran a full article detailing how they faced their dragons. The two "chumpions" of Hogwarts, as Ron and Draco were now being referred to, were a different matter altogether.

Ron was unconscious for about a week after the task, due more to the injuries he sustained on his own than from either his transformation or the dragon bite. When the carrot-topped ponce finally did reawaken, he compensated his loss of time by attempting to eat the week's worth of meals he had missed. Despite what had happened in the arena, Ron actually had managed to get his golden egg and complete the task, though it was not through any rational thinking on Ron's part. During the task, as Ron had been running about in a state of blind panic, he had seen the golden egg, and, mistaking it for some sort of snack wrapped in golden foil, he had eaten it whole as a way of calming himself down. As a cruel twist of fate, this was the very thing that had led to Ron's extended stay in the hospital wing as Madam Pomphrey had had no choice but to administer a Flushing Potion as Ron was allergic to Regurgitation Solution. The knowledge of how the egg had been removed from Ron's stomach meant that no one could look at Ron or his golden egg for more than ten seconds before feeling ill.

Draco, however, seemed to think he had done incredibly well and was now strutting up and down the halls as though he had already won the tournament. His father, on the other hand, was now suffering severe nerve damage from the number of Crucios he'd been put under as a result of Draco's failure to get Potter into the tournament; Lucius had sent a letter to his son stating that it was absolutely essential that he follow instructions from the Dark Lord and make sure that Potter would be in that cemetery on the designated date. Draco seemed to brush off his father's concerns, writing back that he would be working on a plan; however, Draco was actually more focused on getting some training so as to ensure his performance at the next task would be even better and had sent a letter out requesting a defense instructor. The instructor, however, a Mr. Samuel Gibbon, was an expert in only one form of defense.

"Evenin', young Malfoy," he said as he strolled into the classroom. "Right, now, self-defense. I'm going to be carrying on from where we got to last week when I was showing how to defend yourself against anyone who attacks you armed with a piece of fresh fruit."

Another unintended consequence of the tournament in regards to Draco is that Pansy Parkinson's family no longer felt that the betrothal agreement between Draco and their daughter was wise as the boy had humiliated himself in front of countless people, including some important people from the Ministry. Pansy's engagement to Draco was broken and Pansy herself was forbidden to interact with Draco outside of the normal exchanges within the classroom. Pansy had been devastated at the time, but one look at the boy she was betrothed to now, Theodore Nott, and all thoughts of Draco flew right out the window.

* * *

Unfortunately, not everything was smooth-sailing for Harry and his friends. Harry walked into the Great Hall a few days after the first task and he knew at once that something was wrong. People were reading _Witch Weekly_ and whispering about something. When he sat down with his friends at breakfast, he noticed that they were a member short.

"Where's Daphne?"

Hermione bit her lip and set down a copy of _Witch Weekly_ in front of him.

There was the picture Skeeter had taken that day in Hogsmeade. His image had been blurred, but the faces of the people with him were very clear, especially Daphne's.

_We all have heard about the Lord of Hogwarts, the Boy-Who-Lived, and the alleged savior of the Wizarding world, whose name we are not legally able to print without his consent. However, we know very little of his friends. The boy we all know has spent a great deal of time with some very respectable people such as the heir of the Longbottom family, the young heiress of the Bones family, and many others. Some of his friends, on the other hand, are not quite so reputable._

_One of these people is a Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl who has allegedly been the young Lord's "best friend" since first year who is almost constantly seen by his side. Miss Granger is from a non-magical family, but exceedingly bright and capable of doing most anything to achieve her goals. _

"_No one really likes her," said an anonymous source. "She's unappealing and bossy and has to voice her opinion on everything. It drives everyone insane. I will admit that she's smart. Too smart, in fact. Don't know why she's not in Ravenclaw, but I'd guess she's only in Gryffindor to get close to the Boy-Who-Lived."_

_Then there is a Miss Luna Lovegood, a girl from an old pure-blood family who has the great misfortune of inheriting her father's mental instability. You all will remember that Xenophilius Lovegood is the same man who brought us stories about Fargles and Wiggling Humdlingers and other such nonsense. _

"_Lovegood has always made a nuisance of herself," said another anonymous source. "She rambles about her idiotic, made-up creatures and I think she spies on people because she says things about them that they've never told anyone."_

_But the most startling of these friends is Miss Daphne Amalthea Greengrass, heiress to the Greengrass family. Miss Greengrass is not, as she has purported to be, a pure-blood, or even entirely human. Through my brilliant investigative skills, I have discovered a long-hidden secret of the Greengrass family. The current Lady Greengrass, once identified as Amalthea Zabatos, is a Greek whose parents moved to Britain shortly after the fall of Gellert Grindelwald. And the surprises do not stop there; Amalthea Zabatos is the daughter of a Muggle-born wizard, Nikolas Zabatos, and a sea nymph named Eudora. _

_Sea nymphs have been known throughout history to use their ethereal powers and unnatural good looks to win the affections of unwary young men. One can only hope that such is not the case with the young Lord who has so much of the public's admiration and…_

Harry threw the magazine down on the table. How dare that woman?! He knew she was nasty, but this…

"It goes on for quite a while like that," Tracey said. "Daphne got one look at the article and ran out."

"Skeeter is going to pay for this," Harry said. "I should have stopped her before but I didn't want to get my hands dirty."

"You can't sue her, Harry," Hermione said somberly. "She didn't use your name directly and there was no contract preventing her from publishing things about the rest of us."

"There's more than one way to get revenge, but first things first. I have to talk to Daphne."

Harry got up from the table and headed out into the hallway. When he was sure that no one was looking, he pulled out the Marauder's Map and scoured it for Daphne's name. Sure enough, there she was up in the Astronomy tower. Hurrying as fast as he could, Harry made his way up the long staircase. Harry had never seen Daphne cry before, he didn't think that she was able to cry; however, the sounds of quiet sobbing were coming from the figure huddled up in one corner of the tower.

"Go ahead," she said softly, "go ahead and stare. Everyone else did and will continue to."

She turned and looked at Harry; her eyes were somewhat red from crying, but that wasn't the most shocking thing. Harry supposed that those of sea nymph heritage, like veela, could transform when experiencing particularly strong emotions. Daphne's skin, already pale, was now almost clear and had a silvery glint to it, allowing a series of blue spiraling marks to stand out vividly on her face. Her hair, too, had blue streaks running through it.

"You're probably wondering if what Skeeter wrote is true. Well, it is, everything about my family is true." She sniffled slightly and gave a mirthless chuckle. "I'm not fully human. My gran was a sea nymph. That's why I created the whole 'Ice Queen of Slytherin' persona; because, whenever I feel a strong emotion, I turn into _this_!

"My mother has even less control of it and my gran doesn't have any at all. Even now I'm holding it back. This," she pointed to her face, "this isn't even _half_ of how I really feel about myself right now."

"Daphne," Harry said gently, "do you really think that being partly non-human makes you any less important than anyone in this school? Hey, look at me." He suddenly used his Metamorphmagus power to give himself aqua-colored hair and neon pink eyes. "I've got something that makes me different." He morphed back to normal. "Does that make me any less of a person?"

"It's different for you. You're Harry Potter, after all. Nothing you do could ever be wrong."

"Hey, don't think for one moment that there is _anything_ wrong with you. So, you're part sea nymph. What does that matter outside of making you even more special? You're Daphne Greengrass and that's all that matters."

Harry hadn't expected Daphne to pull him into a sudden kiss right then. The only thing he registered was that it was a very pleasant feeling. He wasn't sure how long they kissed, only that he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her in a comforting manner. Harry had very limited experience comforting girls; in fact, the last girl who kissed him when she'd been crying was Cho in the old timeline, and look how well _that_ turned out.

"I'm sorry," Daphne apologized as she pulled away. "That was far too forward of me and-"

"Daphne," Harry said calmly, "please don't apologize." He put and arm around her shoulder and directed her to the stairs. "Come on, let's go get some breakfast before class starts."

"But! Wait, I'm still in my…_other_ form. People will see-"

Harry Metamorphed so that he looked like a male version of Daphne.

"Then let them see."

As they descended the stairs, something else occurred to Harry.

"Does this have anything to do with why you don't like the Beauxbatons champion?"

"Actually, it kind of does," Daphne said a little sheepishly. "Veela are fire-based creatures and have a long-standing dispute with water creatures like sea nymphs. I was able to sense that she was a veela right from the beginning and, well…"

"Okay, I understand, but please don't judge her solely because of her heritage."

_Oh, don't worry about that, Harry_, Daphne thought. _I'm far more inclined to judge her because she's clearly out to snag you_.

As the two walked into the Great Hall, all eyes predictably turned to them. Daphne was a bit unnerved by all the attention, but Harry's presence was definitely reassuring. That's when the clapping started. It began, amazingly, with several people in Slytherin; though it wasn't so surprising when Harry noticed that it was Justine Max, Cedric's girlfriend, who was leading the group. The applause then spread throughout each of the four Houses and amongst the staff and, finally, to many of the visiting students.

As Harry showed Daphne to her seat, someone else entered the Great Hall. It was Astoria, Daphne's little sister.

"I just got here!" the eleven-year-old said. "What's going on?"

* * *

Having Winky as her personal elf was a tremendous help for Hermione. As it turned out, both were incredibly strict about neatness and organization; however, Winky turned out to be far more stubborn than Hermione.

"Winky insists Mistress Hermy put down books and finish her dinner," the elf said when Hermione was incredibly absorbed in one of her late-night study sessions.

"I assure you, Winky, I am perfectly-"

"Winky is a good elf and will not let Mistress Hermy strain herself." Winky snapped her fingers and all Hermione's books closed and stack themselves on the shelf, bookmarks securely in the places where Hermione had stopped. "Mistress Hermy will finish her dinner and go to bed so she can be well-rested for end-of-term tests tomorrow."

With a pout on her face, Hermione did what she was told.

Meanwhile, back in Hermione's hometown of Crawley, her parents were in the middle of a very late…appointment with a client.

"Now, Mr. Venderberg, you are going to tell us what we want to know," Dan Granger said, holding up a dental drill. "If you do not, then I am afraid we have ways of…" He stopped for a moment as he was struck by an odd feeling.

"Ways of _what_, Granger?" the foreign spy demanded.

"Hmm, oh, sorry, I just had the strangest feeling that someone actually managed to get my daughter to go to bed the night before a test."

"I felt it, too, dear," said Emma Granger. "And that person also made Hermione finish her dinner and put away her books."

"FINALLY!" the husband and wife shouted together.

"Now, where were we?" said Dan.

"We were about to show Vanderberg here why it is a bad idea to mess with the British Dental Association," said Emma.

"Ah, of course."

* * *

"May I have everyone's attention?!" Professor Babbling shouted as she entered the Gryffindor common room. "Are all the Gryffindors accounted for?"

"Yes, ma'am," said the prefects.

"Good, I have a very important announcement to make. As per a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament, there will be a Yule Ball to celebrate the unity of Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons. The ball was originally planned for Christmas Day; however, the owner of Hogwarts," she threw a brief look at Harry, "did not want this to interfere with your Christmas holidays. Therefore, it will take place from eight o'clock until midnight the day before you are scheduled to depart. The dance is officially open to all those in fourth year and up, those below may attend if invited by an upper year.

"All those students who wish to remain at school will please check in with Deputy Headmistress McGonagall.

"Thank you. You are dismissed." Now came the part that Babbling was dreading. "Mr. Ronald Weasley, a word if you please?"

Ron slouched forward.

"Weasley, the champions and their partners-"

"What partners?" Ron asked.

"Partners for the Yule Ball of course. As a champion, you will be expected to bring a date and open the Ball with the first dance."

"Oh, sure, no problem. I'm a champion, after all. What woman _wouldn't_ want to go with me?"

Bathsheba raised an eyebrow. She was sincerely hoping that stupidity wasn't contagious; otherwise Weasley was sure to start an epidemic. It just so happened that Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, the most notorious gossips in Hogwarts, had overheard this exchange and word spread that Weasley and Malfoy would be in need of dates. The warning reached all corners of the school in a matter of hours and girls instantly began scrambling for dates.

* * *

Harry, meanwhile, was in a deep quandary about who to ask to the Yule Ball. He was certain he should ask one of the girls in his close group of friends; the question was 'who should he choose?' Harry, despite being from the future, was still very much the nervous teenage boy who didn't want to hurt anybody's feelings or make one of his friends feel left out. Luckily for Harry, his rescue from the situation came from Luna Lovegood.

Luna, who already knew how things were going to work out, had called together the other five girls. Hermione, Daphne, Tracey, Fay, and Susan were rather surprised when the young Ravenclaw asked them to meet her privately in the Room of Requirements, and even more surprised when she knew that they all were not interested in going to the ball with anyone other than Harry. Luna, however, devised a solution that made all the girls sigh in relief. They accosted Harry after the last board meeting of the term with their request.

"Harry, we've been talking," Hermione started. "The six of us have mutually agreed that you are the only boy in the school we would even consider going to the ball with."

"We were wondering, if you want to, of course, if you would consider going with all of us as a group?" Susan continued. "That way, we can spend a nice evening with a decent bloke and you don't end up having to go to the ball with some crazy fangirl."

"It doesn't even technically have to count as a date," Fay added. "We can just go as friends if you want."

Harry wanted to drop to his knees and thank God, or whatever Supreme Being it was who decided his fate, that his friends had made this particular decision for him. Of course, Harry, as articulate as ever, simply replied with a "Sure, whatever you want" and was immediately tackled in grateful hugs by the six girls.

"Of course, you know, if you hadn't accepted then two of us might have been forced to go with Malfoy or Weasley," said Daphne, sending disgusted shudders through the group.

"You think _that's_ bad?" said Tracey. "My parents wanted me to go with Goyle to the ball."

"How could parents ever inflict that on their daughter?" said Fay.

"My parents are intending to arrange a betrothal between me and Goyle." Tracey looked faintly ill. "The only way I could hope to get out of it is if they think I have a better prospect. Of course, Mother frequently reminds me that my 'pretty face won't last forever.'"

"You're _fourteen_," Hermione said in shock. "How could they be pushing you like that?"

"My parents have a bit of an age gap. About thirty years to be precise. Mother was sixteen and still in school when she got married."

The others looked outraged, though Daphne simply had a dark expression as this was something Tracey had already told her.

"Don't worry, Trace," Harry said. "I promise you that will _not_ happen to you."

Tracey gave a grateful smile, though she doubted that he'd be able to do anything that would help outside of marrying her himself.

* * *

Harry made his way into Gryffindor common room after taking a turn about the castle to admire the beautiful Christmas decorations. As soon as he walked in, Harry realized that history had decided to repeat itself again. Ronald Weasley was sitting, ashen-faced, in one of the armchairs being comforted by his sister. Already guessing what had happened, Harry decided to ask about it.

"What's with _him_?" he said.

"He just asked Fleur Delacour to the ball," Ginny replied. Then, realizing it was Harry, she straightened herself up and tried her best to look flirtatiously at him.

"And?"

"Well, 'asked' is a relative term," Fred piped up.

"Bloody making a mess is a more apt description," George added.

"This poncy git decided it was wise to just march up to a quarter-veela, say how 'lucky' she was that he was asking her out, and then slap her on the derriere."

"Let's just say that dear ronnikins is lucky to still be alive right now."

"Does he even realize what he did counts as sexual harassment?" Harry asked.

The twins burst out laughing.

"That's a good one, Harry!"

"Yeah, for a moment there I thought you were serious."

"He's not Sirius, _I'm_ Sirius," said Harry's godfather as he entered the room. "Hey, Harry."

"Hey, Padfoot."

"Got something I need to give to you. Won't take a sec."

Harry followed him outside and was immediately grabbed in a hug.

"Harry, I'm so proud of you!" Sirius said.

"Uh…what?"

"Scoring a date with six gorgeous young witches is exactly the type of thing that I'm hoping to encourage. Now, I assume each of these ladies will be wearing different dresses, correct?"

"Uh, yeah?" Harry was confused where this was going.

"Then I think it's time to give you _this_." He handed Harry a large, wrapped package. "It's a special set of dress robes that automatically change tie and trim color to match the outfit of the lady you're dancing with and not cause you to look like a prat. I tell ya, this type of dress robe saved me on a number of occasions."

"That's great, Sirius, how'd you get it?"

"Your grandpa Charlus actually developed it. Before he married my great-aunt Dorea, he was a bit of a ladies' man and, well, he liked to look sharp."

"Thanks, Sirius, this will be really helpful. Oh, I'm guessing you're inviting Bathsheba as your date to the ball?"

Sirius got a giddy smile on his face. Harry wished him well and reentered the common room where he was greeted by Ginny Weasley.

"By the way, Harry, I was wondering if you'd like to go to the ball with me," she said, as if she expected him to instantly want to go with her.

"Uh, sorry, Ginny, but I've already…"

"Great! I'll meet you down here at eight o'clock tomorrow evening!" She then rushed up to her dorm room leaving an incredulous Harry behind.

"How could anyone be this dense?" he said to himself. He then threw a look at the nearly catatonic Ron. "Oh…that explains a lot."

* * *

Ron did manage to break from his stupor by the next day. Unfortunately (though that depends on your point of view), he wasn't able to find a date anywhere. He wasn't the only one, though, as Draco was shocked to discover that not one, single girl would even consider going with him. Both boys brought their complaints to the Deputy Headmistress; oddly enough, they both came at the same time and started trying to shout their problems louder than each other.

"QUIET!" McGonagall yelled and both boys instantly shut up. "You both were unable to find dates to the ball?"

"It's a conspiracy to make me look bad, Professor," said Ron.

"I know it's all Potter's doing," said Draco.

"I even asked that French veela, but she turned me down for some reason."

"Pansy won't even _talk_ to me anymore. She just follows Nott around like a lost puppy."

Professor McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose in thought and tried to remember if there was a contingency plan for this sort of thing in the Triwizard rulebook. That was when she remembered that there was on page 666, subdivision 13, passage 4.

"There is a solution to this problem," she said and both boys stared at her expectantly. "According to the rules for protocol in relation to the Triwizard Yule Ball, if two of the champions are unable to find suitable dates then they must go with each other."

Once both boys had allowed that information to sink in, they promptly fell in dead faints to the floor.

"I think they took that well."

* * *

On the day of the ball, Hermione and Luna had invited the girls to the Founders' Quarters (with Harry's permission, of course) so that they could get ready; Susan had even invited Hannah along as the other Hufflepuff girl was going as Neville's date. The girls had decided to use Helga Hufflepuff's old rooms to get ready as, a few days earlier, Hermione and Luna had discovered an interesting secret about the Hogwarts foundress. Helga Hufflepuff had, apparently, been very interested in designing clothes and had an entire closet full of gowns and jewelry that she herself had made and placed under a Stasis Charm so that they were in the same condition as when she was last in the room.

"Lady Hufflepuff certainly didn't want for taste," Daphne commented as she examined a particularly lovely gown of silvery velvet.

"Looks like she designed clothes for all the ladies at Hogwarts," Hermione said, looking at sketches the late foundress had made, each of which bore the name of the woman who had inspired the design.

"Hermione, this would look lovely on you," Hannah said, pulling out an elegant, periwinkle blue gown.

"Ladies, I think we are going to dominate this ball," said Susan.

Three hours and a whole lot of anxious pacing outside the Founders' Quarters later, Harry and Neville looked up to see the group of beautiful young ladies emerge.

Hermione was wearing the dress of periwinkle blue, just like in the old timeline, only this one looked considerably better on her; she was also wearing a necklace and earrings made out of a dark, purple stone that definitely complimented the outfit. Luna was wearing a midnight blue gown with a bronze-colored shawl; Harry noticed the fabric glittered slightly when the light hit it. Daphne was wearing a silver dress that reminded Harry distinctly of his Invisibility Cloak, and had fastened her hair up in an elegant knot which was ornamented by a single, white lily. Tracey was wearing a dark purple gown that had a distinctly Roman style to it, including a white stola draped across her left shoulder. Fay's dress looked decidedly, for lack of a better word, Gryffindorish; a scarlet robe with gold embroidery and garnet necklace made her look like the female personification of her House. Susan had also opted for wearing something bearing her House's colors; an empire-waisted dress of honey-yellow with black trim.

Neville also seemed taken with his own date's attire. Hannah was dressed in a silky dress of pale blue that matched her eyes and fit nicely on her slender frame.

"Were the three hours worth it?" Hermione asked.

"Definitely worth it," the boys agreed together.

"Shall we?" Neville said, offering his arm to Hannah.

"We shall," the girls agreed.

Harry had to escort three girls on either arm, but he felt perfectly comfortable with it as he knew all those girls were his friends, people he could trust with his life, rather than some last-minute date he'd barely said two words to in his entire life.

The group happily made their way down to the Great Hall where they were greeted by many interested looks, some of which were more unpleasant than others. Harry noticed early on that there were several people who did not look at all pleased by Harry's choice of date…er, dates. Cho Chang was among them, having been one of the more aggressive persuants of Harry's attention when everyone was vying for partners; she had ended up with Zacharias Smith as her date after Harry had turned her away.

There were, on the other hand, many people who looked as though they couldn't be happier with the way things were at that point in time. Harry saw Cedric Diggory and Justine Max happily chatting with several students from Durmstang, clearly taking the opportunity to make some new friends. Harry also noticed Viktor Krum with a Hogwarts girl that Harry had seen before but only knew by name and because she was a Beater on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, a very tall and quiet seventh-year named Iris Moon. Viktor and Iris actually seemed to be fairly well-matched as both stood quietly in a corner of the entrance hall away from the prying eyes of the other students.

"All of you, into the Great Hall," Professor McGonagall instructed.

As Harry, Neville, and the girls entered the ballroom, Harry glanced back when he heard McGonagall address Malfoy and Ron who had clearly just arrived. Harry tried to see what unfortunate girls they had brought as their dates but he didn't see anyone and didn't have time as his companions shuffled him off to the side to wait for the ball to start.

Everyone cleared away from the entrance as the great, oak doors swung open and the champions processed in. Cedric and Justine led the way, followed by Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies, then came Viktor Krum and Iris Moon, and lastly…Ron and Malfoy? Everyone shook their heads, not fully certain if they were actually seeing what they thought they saw. Sure enough, there was Ron, in his old, tattered dress robes, and Malfoy in his expensive, black velvet robes. Both boys looked absolutely miserable and threw glares at each other. When the two boys caught sight of Harry Potter and his six dates, it seemed like the two extra champions would explode with envy.

The magical community might have its prejudices, but they were slightly more open-minded towards same-sex relations (as long as any pure-bloods involved eventually obtained a respectable pure-blood spouse of the opposite sex with which they could produce heirs). In this situation, the students were not laughing because two boys were attending the ball as partners, rather they were laughing at the fact that it was these _specific_ boys who were attending as partners.

Once everyone had taken their seats, the feast began.

"So, what are we going to do about dancing?" Harry asked his lovely companions.

"We've managed to work out a schedule together," said Hermione, producing a piece of paper with a carefully planned timetable drawn up. "We reached an agreement and decided that I am getting the first dance with you. After that, it will be Tracey's turn. Then Daphne, then Susan, then Fay. Luna asked to go last as she said she is not overly interested in dancing."

"However," Luna spoke up, "I do want a goodnight kiss at the end of the evening."

"Um, sure, Luna," said Harry.

The little Ravenclaw smiled brightly.

"You will be allowed a ten minute break between each dance, Harry," Hermione continued. "We don't want you getting overtaxed."

"At least, not yet," Tracey whispered to Daphne and the two bit back giggles.

"Guys, whatever you do, don't look up at the head table," Neville said, looking slightly green.

"Why?" said Harry.

"Ron's eating."

Sure enough, Ronald Weasley, Triwizard champion, was scarfing down plate after plate of food as if there were no tomorrow. The other people at the table looked positively disgusted, especially Ron's "date."

"Weasley," Draco hissed angrily. "Stop embarrassing me and use your cutlery."

"Piss off, Malfoy," Ron replied, accidentally splattering food-stuffs on Draco as he spoke.

Draco, meanwhile, was inwardly planning how he would get his revenge for this indignity when the Dark Lord returned to power. Oh, he'd make them all pay. He'd especially get back at Potter as Draco knew this was all scarhead's fault. He then turned to look at Daphne Greengrass, looking positively radiant in her formal attire, and Draco grinned maliciously. Even if she was some mixed-breed, Daphne was still a very attractive girl; maybe he'd ask the Dark Lord to give her to him as his concubine in return for his brilliant efforts in aiding his master's return. For now, Draco had to put up with the unfairness that was his current situation.

While Ron stuffed large quantities of food down his gullet, he caught sight of Hermione sitting next to Harry, dressed up in all her finery, and another wave of envy hit him. Hermione was one of the many girls who had, for some reason, turned down his invitation to the ball. This was so unfair! Harry not only got six gorgeous girls as his dates, he also got the one girl Ron was certain would be so desperate she couldn't possibly turn him down. Ron kept thinking furiously about how he would get back at his former best friend for this unwarranted, in Ron's opinion, betrayal. It wasn't that Ron had thought Hermione was particularly attractive (until tonight, of course, because she just looked drop-dead gorgeous right now), it was just that his mother had told him Hermione was a decent girl who wouldn't turn him down and would be more than happy to help him with his schoolwork.

Fleur Delacour was currently proclaiming, rather loudly, the inadequacies of Hogwarts to her drooling date.

"Zis is nothing," she said pompously. "At ze palace of Beauxbatons, we 'ave ice sculptures all around ze dining chamber at Chreestmas. Zey never melt, of course…zey are like 'uge statues of diamond, glittering around ze place. And ze food is seemply superb. And we 'ave choirs of wood nymphs, 'oo serenade us as we eat. We 'ave none of zis ugly armor in ze 'alls, and eef a poltergeist ever entaired into Beauxbatons, 'e would be expelled like _zat_." She slapped her hand onto the table impatiently.

Harry and his friends shook their heads. Harry remembered very clearly how obnoxious Fleur had been at first in the old timeline, though he had largely forgotten about it after she got engaged to Bill. Come to think of it, she had still been rather obnoxious up until Bill was attacked by Fenrir Greyback and she showed that she wasn't as shallow a person as everyone assumed. Right now, however, Fleur's impolite comments about Hogwarts were annoying a great many people.

Dumbledore was also one of the people at the ball who were not particularly happy. Things were definitely not looking up for him, especially since the ban on love potions. He needed Harry to fall for Ginny Weasley so that he could get control over Harry, not to mention the boy's fortune. In the meantime, the old man was having a great deal of trouble thinking up who would serve as Draco's and Ronald's hostages. Dumbledore glanced over at the two boys and something about them struck him; for some reason, the two reminded him of himself and Gellert at around that age (though nowhere near as intelligent of course), and it prompted a moment of nostalgia for the aged headmaster.

"Albus…_Albus_!"

"Hmm? What is it, Minerva?"

"You're supposed to call for the champions to start the dance."

"Oh! Yes, of course. Thank you for reminding me." Dumbledore stood up and smiled at the students. "Will you all please rise?!" he called out, waving his wand so that the tables shot to the sides of the hall. "Champions, please take your places for the first dance!"

As the music started, the four couples began to dance. Well, three out of four, at least. Draco and Ron were doing something more akin to a fight than dancing.

"I told you, Weasley, _I'm_ leading!"

"No way, ferret-face! _I'm_ leading!"

"ME!"

"NO, ME!"

Everyone largely ignored the two as other couples made their way onto the dance floor. Harry took Hermione's hand and gave her a gentle twirl as they began their waltz. When the students had taken up their places, the faculty joined in. Sirius led Bathsheba, who was dressed in bright, gold robes that clung to her curves in just the right places, out onto the floor, followed closely by Remus and Tonks, who had developed a close bond over the course of the term. Even Mr. Stearns was showing off his dance moves with Professor Burbage as his partner.

As the first song ended, Harry led Hermione back to their table and took Tracey by the hand, noticing that his dress robes had changed their color scheme from the periwinkle blue they had been when he'd danced with Hermione to a dark purple that matched Tracey's gown.

Soon enough, that song also ended and Harry was given his ten minute break. He and Tracey joined the others at the table and took a grateful sip of butterbeer.

"Excuse me," came a voice. They all turned to see Viktor Krum standing there with his date. "Herm-my-own-ninny?"

"Hermione," the girl corrected.

"Yes, I just vish to thank you again for introducing me to Iris," he said.

Iris gave a small smile at Hermione before glancing back at Viktor.

"I vasn't sure if I vould be able to find someone here who vas not blinded by my fame enough to be good company this evening."

"Well, you are both very welcome," said Hermione. When Viktor Krum had asked her out a few days ago, she had politely declined but had also decided to help the Bulgarian Seeker find another girl to accompany him to the ball. The girl she introduced him to was currently standing shyly beside him.

Viktor then turned to Harry.

"You are Harry Potter, correct?"

"Yes, and you're Viktor Krum." The two boys shook hands.

"It is a pleasure to meet you. I have heard your story many times in my own country. You are quite well-respected there."

"I am?"

"Yes. The Dark Lord you defeated is considered worse than Grindelwald, and my people hated Grindelwald for what he did."

"Really?"

"Yes. We are also grateful that your headmaster killed Grindelwald for what he did to our country."

"Um, actually, the headmaster didn't kill him."

"Vot? But he vas defeated."

"Dumbledore just had Grindelwald locked up in Nurmengard. Dumbles over there couldn't deal with the thought of killing his old boyfriend."

The color drained out of Viktor's face before a dark shade of red overtook it.

"If you vill excuse me, I haff a letter I need to send immediately." He gave his date a quick kiss on the hand. "I vill return shortly, Iris."

Harry watched Viktor leave and head in the direction of the Owlery. He had a funny feeling he had stirred up trouble abroad by revealing what he had, luckily it wasn't trouble for him, but Dumbledore would soon be finding himself _persona non grata_ in Bulgaria and several other countries in the Balkans and further up in central Europe.

The music for the next dance had begun and Harry was about to lead Daphne onto the dance floor when someone tapped him on the shoulder. It was Fleur Delacour, smiling at him in a suggestive way.

"_Pardon moi_," she said. "Are you 'arrie Potter?"

"Yes, that would be me," he said.

"I was wondering if you would like to share zis next dance with me." Harry could feel the Veela Allure coming off of her and shook himself.

"Thank you, but I have already promised the next dance to this lovely lady here." He indiacted towards Daphne, who was scowling heavily at the French girl.

Fleur and Daphne locked gazes, eyes boring heavily into each other. Fleur had seen the other girl enter the Great Hall that day in her true form and had been highly disgusted. The little quarter-nymph had appeared in near complete transformation in front of everyone, and they had _applauded_ her for it; Fleur would certainly never debase herself by appearing in her own _other_ form.

"Are you certain I might not have zis dance, 'arrie?" Fleur asked again, cranking up the allure.

Harry felt Daphne squeeze his hand and shook his head.

"I do not think that it is customary to offer a dance to a man whose castle you were so vehemently insulting earlier," Harry said.

"_Pardon moi_?"

"Hogwarts is under my jurisdiction and I do not appreciate it when people make fun of it. I am afraid I must decline your offer, and any future offers. Good evening, mademoiselle."

Daphne shot a smug grin at Fleur as Harry continued to lead her onto the dance floor. Fleur was looking outraged.

_How dare that little trollop steal my prey?_ Fleur thought furiously. _A man with that kind of money and power deserves someone better than water-dwelling trash like her! I'll make her pay for this!_

"That was impressive," said Daphne as she and Harry moved about the floor. "Most guys can't fight off Veela Allure. Usually it takes the presence of a soulmate or the boy has to have a great deal of love for another to resist."

"It wasn't too hard," Harry replied. "You being there certainly helped."

Daphne felt a blush in her cheeks and her eyes sparkled a bit.

The evening wound down as Harry proceeded to give each of the girls a dance. Luna was the most interesting to dance with as she seemed to move to music in her own head rather than what was playing and her moves more closely resembled a polka than the slow waltz, but Harry played along and made sure to oblige Luna with her goodnight kiss when it was over.

Ron and Draco had, after the humiliation of the first dance, attempted to get a dance with a pretty witch, only to be turned down at every corner. Both boys spent the remainder of the night sulking at the back of the hall. They weren't the only ones who'd had a miserable evening; up in Gryffindor Tower, Ginny was ranting and raving to whoever was still there about how Harry had stood her up.


End file.
